


Invincible

by PencilPuppy



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Aliens in Hunger Games, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, District 12, District 2, F/M, Many More Characters to Come, Original Character(s), will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-09-25 18:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 135,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20376277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilPuppy/pseuds/PencilPuppy
Summary: They had both lost their worlds; had said goodbye to their world. They had each been sent away to keep them safe and, they landed on Earth.Ironic.





	1. Zheho Voilkir (To Survive)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'Zheho Voilkir' she fruitlessly tried to remind herself, hoping to ease just a little bit of her guilt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You remember how excited Nora Allen was, the first time she met Team Flash? That's how excited I am right now! Not only because this is my very first fanfic, but also because I've been reading some amazing works on AO3 for quite some time now and it feels so awesome to share the space with some genuinely awesome writers! So, before I begin, I'd like to thank @LoneWulffe, @shipwreckinabottle, @bilgegungoren00, @PencilOfAwesomeness, @akane171 and @93Mika for writing MUCH MUCH better than the SG writers and giving the fans some really cool stuff! You guys are legends to me!  


She hated the sound of footsteps in the forest.

Of all the things that Kara had seen and endured on this planet, this was the one she still had nightmares about. The sound was the sole reason she despised her time in the forest. A dark voice in her head would remind her of the irony of it all. Of how the forest was once her place of happiness. How, as a child, she would make every excuse under the sun to spend more time there. How her younger self would find peace and comfort in the very sounds that tortured her today. Because back then, the sounds represented joy and life.

Today they meant anything but.

If she were on Krypton, spending some time in a similar forest with a familiar face, the realization, that sound means movement and movement means that some life form different from her own was present nearby, would get her excited. Even on Earth, as a child, she would find happiness in the fact that there were some species here on the planet that were just as clueless about some human practices as she was. It made her feel a little less _ alone _. But today, not even the slightest trace of that relief remained, as she wasn’t here to appreciate the wonders that nature had to offer. She was here for one task alone.

She was here to kill.

Climbed on top of a long tree, Kara could sense, more than see, the creature that had caused the rustling. Slowly and carefully, she scanned the area around her and saw exactly what she was looking (and dreading at the same time) for. A beautiful, unsuspecting and innocent four legged animal freely wandering about the forest like it should be able to, without having to worry about people like Kara watching its every move. The innocence on the deer’s face reminded Kara of herself when she first landed on this planet. But now, as she aimed her weapon at the poor soul, positioning herself on the tree branch accordingly, her naiveté, it seemed, had faded a long time ago.

“_ Zheho Voilkir”(To Survive) _she recited in her mind, in her native Kryptonian language, as she pulled the bow string taut, allowing her brain to zero down on the target. A corner of her mind was filled with regret for the fate of the creature below her. But after having attempted this crime and slaughtered other such animals countless times now, she had learned well to keep that regret locked down deep inside her. She was quite young when she realized for the first time that here, on Earth, there were only two options one had; survive by killing or die to let live. While she would never back down from doing the latter, she knew that the former was certainly the practical thing to do. ‘What a dark logic’, a voice in her head would exclaim. But like she had done to the many other voices in her mind that constantly reminded her of her principles, she strangled this one too.

All to ensure that the family that took her in so lovingly on this foreign land could live to see another week.

Kara was 6 Earth years old when she first met the Zorel’s. William and Alura; him a scientist for one of the many research labs scattered across the outskirts of district 12 and her, a physician at an apothecary placed in the merchant part of the district. They were a poor yet generous couple that welcomed her into their lives when she landed on Earth. Kara never remembered her own parents, for the long travel across outer space had robbed her of any memory of them. But ever since she had woken up on this strange world, Alura and William had been not only her parents, but also her life. She would never back out from risking her life for them, because they did it on a daily basis for her, hiding her true identity from the rest of the world. Earth had come pretty far in advancements in science and technology. But humans still remained quite ignorant to the concept of alien life. At first, Kara was unsure about keeping her identity to herself, knowing how much she could do for others. But in the end, it was her adoptive father who convinced her to hide for the safety of herself, as well as those around her. “The thing that humans fear the most is that which they cannot control.”, William would tell her. And so, despite the extraordinary abilities granted to her by the yellow sun, Kara continued to stay hidden from the limelight that only being an alien could guarantee.

But that didn’t mean she still couldn’t use her powers for good. Ever since her first day on Earth, Kara had learned numerous ways of using her powers to do good. She had consistently looked after her family, thanks to the yellow sun and on more occasions than one, saved quite a few people in the district as well. It was her way of easing her conscience of the guilt caused by keeping her identity a secret. Thus, to her, her powers were a positive reminder of her roots and helped keep her sane in this chaotic world. They were a beacon of hope for her, reminding her of the things she could do on her part to try to end the suffering on this planet.

The irony arose when she would use the same powers for claiming innocent lives as her own. Kara had realized early on that she wasn’t a good hunter. And so reluctantly, she was forced to rely on her enhanced abilities to make a kill. She would either use her enhanced vision to spot a target from miles away, or simply use her super speed and strength to overwhelm the victim within a matter of seconds. Her ability to fly was a rarity and reserved only for dire and desperate situations, mainly because of all the unwanted attention it could attract from the Capitol. Today, she would require only her vision to kill this beautiful creature because it neither showed signs of being alarmed, nor acknowledged the presence of Kara nearby. 

It had been a strikingly quiet day in the woods today. For the longest time, even with her superhuman hearing ability, Kara could spot no more than a few squirrels running about. Even the traps she had set up the previous day, had turned up disappointingly empty. It was as though the animals had collectively decided to stay in hiding. It was always like this, this time of the year. “Even the birds know to fear the Reaping”, Kara would grimace. It was at this time, each year, that she needed her powers the most.

Keeping one arm between the bow and the branch to ensure that she had a steady position, Kara aimed the arrow at the heart of the creature, which she could see more than hear, beating calmly. She was about to take the shot when suddenly, her arm accidentally moved a little too much to the side causing a crunching sound to rupture the silence engulfing her and her prey. The deer quickly became aware and began running in the opposite direction of the sound, gaining speed with every step. Kara had to think fast. She had waited far too long and desperately for this animal to abandon its pursuit now. So she did the only thing that came naturally to her on this planet.

She flew.

She felt the rush of the cool forest air on her face, as she launched herself from the tree and out in the open sky, all while, keeping her eyes focussed on the deer, as it made its way through the dense jungle splotched with green. Kara had grown familiar with the forest now. What remained imperceptible to the common eye, was clear as day to her, as she recognized nearly every tree in the area along with the pattern they collectively created. The deer was fast, but Kara was faster. Although there were an alien and an animal in the picture, neither were strangers to these woods that man had claimed as his own.

The deer was now running at full speed, about a hair’s breadth away from freedom and safety when suddenly, it stopped. The chase that had begun without warning, came to an end just as abruptly. It was as though someone had flipped the switch on its life, as the deer fell to the ground, shocked by the sudden ambush. It struggled a little, before finally greeting death like a weary little child.

From a distance, Kara saw the arrow lodged in the heart of the deer as its heartbeat slowly diminished before ceasing altogether. “_ Zheho Voilkir” _she fruitlessly tried to remind herself, hoping to ease just a little bit of her guilt. But all that hope vanished, as her eyes fell upon the corpse of the innocent animal whose life she had just claimed, filling her up with pure and unadulterated guilt.

She really hated the sound of footsteps in the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kara Zorel is her Earth Name. I just though Zorel has quite a futuristic tone, so I kept it. Here, she was adopted by a loving couple, Alura and William Zorel. Travel along deep space has made her forget of certain details of her life. (Call it convenient writing, if you will!)
> 
> Next up: Mon El Roqford!


	2. Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As a six year old, there was always the irrational fear of the end of the world in the little prince’s mind, but he quickly turned down that possibility before it could grow any further. 
> 
> Years from now, he would laugh at the irony of it all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People read my work!! I appreciate everyone who read the first chapter of Invincible! This project is so dear to me, because it has taught me how amazing it is to write. I cannot wait for you guys to find out what happens next and how the story progresses. But more of that later. For now, here's chapter 2!

He woke up to a nightmare.

He was awoken by the blaring fire alarms of the palace. Confusion, followed by fear filled up the small prince’s mind, as he tried to understand what was happening outside the safety of his room. At first, he had thought (and desperately hoped) that it was a false alarm caused by a minor accident somewhere in the castle. But he soon realized that wasn’t the case, as the sirens grew louder than ever. That was when it hit him that not one but multiple fires must have broken out in the castle, because numerous alarms were ringing simultaneously. Continuing to hope for the best, for his six year old heart wouldn’t allow him otherwise, Mon El slowly got out of his bed and walked carefully toward the door. He prayed at that moment for Var Eth, his bodyguard, to appear and tell him that there was nothing to worry about. He had hoped that his guardian would then tuck him to bed, promising a peaceful morning to follow. But when Var Eth entered, one look at him shattered all hopes Mon El had of making it peacefully through the night.

Footsteps rushed through the corridors, as Mon El and Var Eth made their way towards, what Mon El could only hope was, safety. He tried desperately to understand the whole situation that he had awoken to, but failed as he couldn’t come up with a single possibility that could cause such a ruckus throughout the palace. As a six year old, there was always the irrational fear of the end of the world in the little prince’s mind, but he quickly turned down that possibility before it could grow any further. 

Years from now, he would laugh at the irony of it all.

As they rushed down the stairs and made their way through the enormous palace hall, Mon El saw what true chaos meant. He watched, awestruck, as fire fell all throughout the hall like rain in a storm. Nothing seemed familiar, as flames engulfed the very pillars that once seemed stronger than ever. Everywhere he looked, he saw destruction overwhelming everything in sight. The ground was littered with burnt down drapes and large masses of concrete, all burnt or charred as a result of the fire that raged on. When he looked up, Mon El couldn’t believe his own eyes, for what should have been the tall ceiling of the castle, was suddenly replaced by the night sky. He watched as the final few pieces of the ceiling fell to the ground, completely opening up the hall and everyone in it to the dangers of the firestorm that brew outside. The night-sky, that used to be a beautiful shade of blue with stars adorning its entirety, transformed into a ghastlier version of itself, as the only colour in sight was flaming red. The enormity of the turmoil only grew, when it was accompanied by the screams of the numerous people trying their hardest to escape these horrors. Men, women and children were all forced to rush to a place of safety, that seemed now to exist only as a fantasy. Mon El could only hope that wherever Var Eth had planned to take the two of them was large enough to house every single individual that he saw in front of him, desperately trying to survive. They made their way across the ruins and remains of the castle hall and rushed through what once were the great castle doors, out into the open.

Mon El had initially thought that the palace was the only place that was affected, or rather, affected this badly. But what he saw outside took his breath away, for he had never imagined, much less seen, a destruction of this magnitude. A moment stretched on to an eternity, as Mon El’s feet froze to the ground, fear preventing him to take another step toward the annihilation in front of his eyes. Time halted to a still, as the screams of his own people, collapsing to their deaths, filled his ears. Somewhere in the distance, Mon El could hear Var Eth pleading him to keep moving, but all he could focus on was the firestorm ravaging his planet. He watched, as flames rapidly engulfed nearly everything in sight, wounding and hurting people on its course. Suddenly, a man ,Mon El recognized as a worker for the palace, fell right next to him. He was stuck under what appeared to be a wall that was on fire. “Help Please! Someone help me!”, he screamed, pain and anguish clear in his voice. Mon El knew a small child like himself wouldn’t be able to do anything to help the man, but concern overruled logic, as his feet started rushing towards the man to help. However, before he could do so, two hands grabbed him from the back and stopped him. “No, my prince” Var Eth stopped him. “You must save yourself first.” he said. “But Var Eth, he needs helps! We cannot simply abandon him like this” Mon El pleaded, as he started yet again towards the poor man. He was stopped once more, roughly this time, as Var Eth shoved him back and angrily said, “No! My prince, listen to me. You are not going to be able to help everyone. You must save yourself!” In any other situation, Mon El would probably have given into Var Eth’s scolding. Even though he was known to be a mischievous child, he knew that when Var Eth was angry about something, it was time to be serious. But today, he could see familiar faces in pain and suffering because of a reason the prince didn’t even know. Today, he was thrown into watching his people die right in front of him, and asked to just ignore it all and save himself. He needed to know why. This caused an emotion of anger, fear and sorrow to rise from deep within and as a result, Mon El shot back. “No! Tell me what is going on! What is happening?!” the prince demanded, his voice laced with fear and rage. He then noticed a peculiar look on Var Eth’s face which resembled a mixture of pride and regret. Finally giving in to the prince’s demands, Var Eth spoke, “My prince, Krypton has exploded. Because of them, our planet is dying too. The end of our world is upon us”. Mon El couldn’t believe his own ears, for what he had just heard, seemed impossible. But evidence presented itself in the form of a massive boulder striking the ground and sending tremors all around it. Distracted, Mon El fell to the ground, only to be saved by Var Eth as he too stumbled and tried to maintain his balance, saving the both of them. “Prince, I know this is a lot to take in, but we must keep moving.” Var Eth requested. He always considered Mon El to be a fine young boy, fully capable of taking over the holy throne of Daxam, one day. But today, all he could see in front of him, was a scared little boy, who needed saving. “Lar, please trust me.” Var Eth pleaded. He rarely called the prince by his real name. As his guard, it was required that there remain a certain level of formality between the two. But Var Eth and Lar Gand were inseparable, for prince Lar considered Var Eth even more than his own father. Var Eth too had taken care of the prince like a son. The king and queen weren’t always there, but Var Eth consistently looked after the prince. As a result, he occasionally called him by his name to display his affection. Today, however, it was to calm the child’s frightened heart. Upon hearing his name, Mon El knew what he had to do. The reasons for abandoning his subjects were still lost to him, but he trusted Var Eth enough to do exactly what he told him to in such a dire situation. Regaining the ability to move, as Var Eth ushered him forward, Mon El started running. He didn’t know where they were headed, or what they could possibly do to save everyone in such circumstances. But for now, he simply ran.

After five minutes of running that stretched on to an eternity, they arrived at a vast crater-like structure. Inside, Mon El saw steps leading down to a small cave that appeared hidden. As he neared the cave, it started to appear a little more like a tunnel that ran along the diameter of the crater. Mon El had never been to this part of the castle before, but Var Eth seemed to know exactly where he was headed. After descending the stairs, he led the prince towards one end of the large tunnel. There, Mon El saw a door, separating them from what was hidden inside, with a scanner right next to it. Var Eth helped Mon El up to the scanner and scanned his little palm on to the device. The device turned green as the door came to life and hissed open. Inside, Mon El could finally understand what their plan of escape was. The tunnel was actually a launch pad meant for travel pods. They would use them to escape, evacuating everyone to safety until the planet became habitable again. However, each pod could contain only one passenger at a time. That meant, they would need quite a few to get everyone to safety. But, there was only one pod in sight and not much space to house more than that. “Var Eth, where are the rest of the pods? And how do we get everyone to reach here in time?”, Mon El asked. Suddenly, before the prince could fully understand what was happening, Var Eth grabbed him and shoved him inside the escape pod in front of them, closing it shut. He then proceeded to program the vehicle, to reach a suitable destination, from the outside. That was when Mon El truly understood Var Eth’s exact intentions. This was never about saving all the people from the catastrophe.

It was about saving just him. 

Mon El suddenly felt numb. He couldn’t breathe as reality sunk in and he finally understood. All this time, Mon El had expected to help Var Eth in a plan to save all the people stuck on the planet. He thought he could somehow save everyone in time. What he failed to realize, was that Var Eth had never mentioned saving anyone.

Anyone but Mon El.

All of a sudden, his senses came back, as oxygen rushed in his lungs while rage filled up his mind, as he banged the glass of the pod with all his might. He screamed and continued banging, but could not earn even the slightest of response from Var Eth, who was busy setting up the pod’s telemetry from outside. Tears started blurring Mon El’s vision, as he continued fruitlessly to gain Var Eth’s attention. His mind seemed to be lost in a mixed emotional state of anger and fear. Anger, because of the dark reasoning behind it all. Even though Mon El was a child, he could understand the injustice of the situation. Just because royal blood ran in his veins, he was given the opportunity of life, while the ordinary people from his own kingdom, were left to perish in the flames. Fear nagged him at the back of his head, not for himself, but for those, including Var Eth, that he was expected to leave behind. His mind failed to understand the reason for his consequences and urged him to somehow right this wrong. But a large part of him knew that there was nothing he could do, for the demands of a small child were nothing compared to the determination of a grown man like Var Eth. Like the final attempt of a desperate person, Mon El tapped yet again on the glass with his tiny knuckles that were now bruised as a result of the constant knocking. That was when Var Eth finally looked up. He placed his hand on the glass as a sad smile adorned his face. From inside, Mon El’s tiny palm matched that of Var Eth, as tears began flooding his face. They stayed like that for a moment, before suddenly, above them, the doors lined to the tunnel began opening as the pod started to move. Var Eth saw panic setting in the eyes of the little child and so before it could overwhelm him, he caught his attention by tapping on the glass one last time. As Mon El’s eyes turned to him, Var Eth said something just as the pod began to launch. Mon El heard the muffled voice of his guardian, as he spoke his final words to him. “Bailat Daxam”, Var Eth said, with pride and love clear in his reassuring voice, as a single tear spilled from his eyes. Mon El cried even more, as those words were spoken in Daxam in farewells offered to honour and console those that had left them for good. 

He tried his hardest to keep Var Eth in his blurry vision as the ground below him began sinking and the pod finally started gaining speed. But after a matter of seconds, the tunnel was replaced by a ghastly view of his entire planet succumbing to an inferno. Within a few minutes, the planet disappeared entirely and what remained in view was a tiny speck of light, hurtling in the distance. Mon El cried through it all before he finally grasped the implications of what had just happened. World, as he knew it, had ended and everyone he ever knew was going to die. 

Everyone but him. 

A pang of guilt and regret threatened to overwhelm him, but before that could happen, darkness took over his senses instead, as he started slipping into troubled yet deep slumber. Just as everything went dark, suddenly

He woke up in his bed sweating and his heart racing. He looked around and saw his room. It took him a few minutes and deep breaths to realize what had happened. He looked outside his bedroom window and found it still dark outside. ‘But the sun would be rising any minute now’, he thought to himself. He could sense such things, involuntarily; those that a normal human being couldn’t. It would remind him of not only the horrors he had to face in reaching here, but also the dark things he had faced upon arriving. Because he hadn’t woken up on his home world of Daxam like he had hoped every night before sleeping, when he first arrived. He was on Earth now; a planet that had no place for an alien like himself. 

He had awoken to a nightmare. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mon El from Daxam!  
As you may have noticed, I've changed a few details from both universes (Supergirl and Hunger Games), because I felt they would suit my storyline a bit better.  
Also, having Kudos and Comments on my dashboard is more awesome than I thought! So keep 'em coming!
> 
> Thank You all!


	3. To Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'In here, his powers were nullified by his weakness. In here, he was human.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MELWOOD GOT MARRIED!  
*Michael voice*: Oh mY GOD okay It's happening! Stay calm EVERYONE!!! Honestly, it feels good to ship such an awesome couple. While I was kind of bummed that they didn't post anything about the wedding, I respect their privacy and just want them to know, that whenever they're ready to post on their own, we the fans will be ready!
> 
> On to the story...!

He could hear nothing else.

A bow in hand and a blindfold covering his eyes, Mon El focussed solely on his breathing. Adjusting his stance, he slowly drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it in place, readying himself for what was about to follow. Suddenly, the room around him turned red, as an eerie whirring filled the room. The atmosphere in there transitioned from suspenseful to shuddering within seconds. The whirring was then replaced by the robotic voice of a woman, that said, “ _ Commence Simulation _ ”. 

And then, it began.

A robotic, three-dimensional hologram of a man appeared out of thin air, a few metres behind Mon El. With a knife in hand, he charged at full speed towards his seemingly unsuspecting, blindfolded target. He was just a few feet away when, all of a sudden, Mon El spun around and shot the attacker right in the chest, causing the projection to disappear before the man could even fall to the ground. This was followed by another man to Mon El's right; this time, weilding a sword. He ran at full speed, only to be stopped midway by an arrow to the chest. One after another, numerous such attackers appeared, some materializing quite close to Mon El. But each one of them was met with the same fate, as arrows flew all across the room. Down to his second-last arrow, Mon El waited for his final attacker, who seemed to be trying a different approach, rather than charging forward right away like all his predecessors had. What made the situation even more challenging, was that this attacker wielded a bow and arrow, not unlike his target. He shot an arrow directed to Mon El's head, only for him to duck slightly at the last second, causing it to miss by a hair's breadth. A second arrow began making its way towards Mon El, but before it could even be properly launched, an arrow lodged itself in the attacker's forehead, causing him to fall down and dematerialize into nothing.

What followed the final death was silence, as all movement inside the room ceased entirely, leaving Mon El again with nothing but the sound of his own breath. A few seconds later, the robotic sound returned, this time, voicing the words, “ _ End Simulation _ ”, which quickly brought the room back from the ghastlier version to its initial state.

There was quiet, yet again. Mon El relished the silence. Owing to his super hearing, he could hear everything from low frequency hums to the high frequency buzz. Living in district 2, the tech district of Panem, further added to the noise, as the sounds of electricity burdened every single resident.

Here however, Mon El could simply tune it all out. Partly because of his ability to zero-down, owing to years of training in these very rooms, and partly because the concentration of lead in the walls reduced his hearing capacity to quite an extent. Mon El was severely allergic to lead. He first found that out in his initial months on Earth, when he landed on the planet 16 years ago. He was headed to his room, when he accidentally stepped, barefoot, on a small piece of lead insulated wire. Mon El swore he had never experienced pain as he had in that moment, for his foot had taken a whole week to recover fully. This was why he could so easily escape the world in these rooms. In here, his powers were nullified by his weakness. In here, he was human.

Panting now slightly, he was about to remove his blindfold, when suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. Immediately jumping into action, he nocked his final arrow in the bow and pointed the weapon towards the direction of the sound.

“Woah! Easy! It's me, Winn, your best friend who is not going to regenerate from an arrow to the chest like your hologram buddies!”, Winn shouted, a little frantically, putting up both his hands in front of his face, knowing in the back of his mind that they offered next to no protection from a sharp edged arrow.

“Winn!” Mon El exclaimed, lowering his weapon and relaxing a bit. “Do you honestly believe sneaking up on me is a good idea? Especially when I’m armed?`` he asked removing his blindfold to look at his best friend who was standing at the entrance of the room with his hands still raised.

“Well, how was I supposed to know you were here? I wasn’t expecting you today, what with the reaping and all, and you make virtually no sound when you train!”, Winn responded. “Besides”, he continued, “I was kinda lost”, he admitted, sheepishly, trailing away a little at the end of the sentence, as he made his way to examine the controller across the room. 

“Making daddy dear proud, are we?!” Mon El asked, teasingly, a smile slowly working its way onto his face upon seeing the look of annoyance on his best friend. Few things could bring a smile to the face of Mon El Roqford. Fewer people could do the same. Winn Schott, the genius of district 2, made the cut.

Winn was the son of Walter Schott, the creator of the advanced training center in district 2. Being a victor himself, Walter staunchly believed that tributes must be well trained before entering the arena, just like he had been for his own games. And so, upon his triumphant return, he used his winnings for the further development of the district's training centre. 

The place was an extremely vast gymnasium that was technologically advanced in almost every sense. It was built in the approximate centre of the district and occupied extensive district ground. The training area was divided into numerous rooms, each specializing in a specific skill. By the time tributes were ready to volunteer, they would have enough experience to kill in a variety of ways.

Walter Schott was extremely proud of the centre. 'This is my masterpiece!’, he would often exclaim, right before looking down at his own son. ‘And this, a failed attempt’, he would then mutter. Mon El always found it quite unnerving, as well as fascinating, to observe just how quickly the man's emotions would transform from pride to utter disappointment, for sometimes even his heightened sense of speed couldn't fully comprehend.

Because Winn Schott was a lot of things. He had proved himself as one of the best students of 2 having topped every class in school. Languages were a speciality of his, as he was the only kid in the district who had mastered five old-Terran languages at the age of 9. When it came to technology, which was what district 2 was known for, Winn was considered a genius. He had to his credit some of the finest device designs used not only in 2 but all over Panem. 

But the one thing Winn Schott couldn’t master, just happened to be the second thing that district 2 was renowned for; killing.

Panem was composed of 12 districts and each one of them had to participate in the games. While a majority of the districts still mourned the idea of sending their people into a kill-zone, districts like 2 had long accepted their fate and had adopted a different approach towards their predicament. This was why each person in 2 began training from ages as small as 5 and continued until they fit the tribute age bracket of 13 to 24. Once they were ready, they would willingly volunteer, with the goal of bringing glory to their family and district in mind. 

But Winn was certainly not a killer. He wholeheartedly loathed the games and what they stood for. This mentality set him apart from every person in district 2, which, in turn, attracted quite a lot of criticism, mostly from his own father. But it was the very same mentality that made the alien, who had landed in the outskirts of the district all those years ago, trust him enough to become his best friend.

In the beginning, Mon El was terrified of interacting with humans of his age. He was 8 earth-years old when he first went to their district school. Although the system showed he was there since birth, he still had to somehow portray the lie in real life. Mon El still remembered the sheer panic he had felt that day, when none of the kids recognized him. Just as the teachers began getting suspicious, a short dorky boy approached him from the back of the room. He began talking to him and soon, they were talking as though they'd known each other for years. By the end of the day, the teachers were fully convinced that Mon El indeed was one of their own while he walked home with his new friend Winn.

Although Winn hadn't realized early on that the new boy in the district, was in fact the new boy on the planet, he still hadn't stopped helping the alien. Over the years, he had helped Mon El get accustomed to life on Earth. He had practically saved his life by helping him survive on this ruthless planet.

It was a favour Mon El could never repay and the guilt clawed at him, even today.

After returning his bow to its place and cleaning up the numerous arrows scattered across the floor, Mon El led the two of them across the maze-like corridors of the training centre, until they reached a pair of steel doors with the words “Knife Combat” etched on them. The doors hissed open, allowing the two men access to a vast room that lit up immediately upon their arrival. It was similar in layout to the archery room, but instead of bows and arrows, this room had different kinds of knives, varying in length and design, hung all across the walls of the room.

Winn walked over to the far side and picked up a medium sized machete. Turning it a few times in his hand, he made his way to the centre of the room and stood ready while Mon El stood in front of him with a similar weapon of his own.

“You ready?” he asked Winn.

Reluctantly, the short techie positioned his knife in a reverse grip edge-in technique and faced his opponent, before uttering a short “Ready.”

Without wasting a single second, Mon El lunged forward, slashing his knife at Winn, who backed up and turned to his side. He grabbed Mon El’s arm, pushed him forward and moved slightly back, creating some distance between them. Mon El quickly turned and charged at him again swiping his knife upward which Winn dodged moving to the side. Mon El, expecting this move, turned his arm mid air towards Winn’s neck but missed, as Winn ducked and crawled over to his original position. Everytime Mon El attacked, Winn dodged. Each time was the same, as Winn kept maintaining a defensive stance. He occasionally used his knife, but only to deflect his opponent's attack.

“Good" said Mon El after Winn dodged what must've been his 20th strike at the man. “You're footwork's improving. Now just make sure you know the plan. Anytime your opponent gives you an opening, you push and run. Don't stop for anything until you're safe."

Winn simply nodded, but Mon El could tell by the look in his eyes that something was bothering him. He had a rough idea of what it was and started to walk away to avoid talking about it before Winn stopped him. 

"You were holding back", he said. 

"What are you talking about?" Mon El asked, as he quickly checked the camera on the far side of the room. It was a habit he had picked up over the years. Hiding his powers was not easy. Especially when half the district was littered with the ‘eyes of the Capitol' 

But Winn wasn't referring to his super-strength. “Your fighting pattern has been the same all week. Except today. Today, it was more like on the day we began. You went easy on me."

One look at Mon El told Winn that he was right indeed. But before Mon El could begin to explain, he cut him short and replied, “No, it's ok. I get why you did it. Having a knife to your neck right before you may have to go to the games is not the best motivation to fight" He sat down on the training mat and stared at his weapon.

Mon El stood there, as he saw his cheerful, best friend reduced to the man in front of him. He could see the fear in his eyes that threatened to take over him, reminding him of a boy lost in space all those years ago.

And he hated every part of it. Ever since the two of them turned old enough to be eligible for the reaping, Mon El had seen just how bad fear could get. The day of the reaping was always the worst. Even though most of the district was trained to fight, having to say goodbye to a loved one, possibly forever, was not something one could get used to. But since a few weeks ago, reaping had gotten much worse. 

Because about a month ago, Samantha Arias, one of the best students 2’s academy had to offer and possibly the most brutal fighter anyone had ever seen, had decided to volunteer. Although pride and glory were goals to be achieved, no person in the entire district was courageous enough (or “stupid enough”, as Winn would say) to challenge her. This in turn, meant that not a single man would willingly volunteer in the reaping this year, causing the picked name to be the tribute to go.

This was why Winn had come to him. This was the reason that he had even considered teaching Winn some basic fighting tactics. Because whoever got picked, had to enter a life threatening match of murder and misery. Winn had always been a man of ideals; a decent man. But today, the games took that away from him. They changed him to a man afraid of the good inside him.

His trance broke when Winn uttered, "I know you're trying to protect me, man. I appreciate it. But you can't save me in there." 

After a few silent minutes, Mon El walked over and sat beside Winn. He paused a moment, before saying, “Maybe you don't need me to save you."

He continued right before what he knew was going to be a sarcastic remark from Winn.

“I've been training here for as long as I can remember and no one has ever been able to identify fight patterns in a week. Some still can't do that. What takes an average fighter about a month to figure out, Winn you did that in a week! Do you not realize how crazy that is?!"

Mon El could see his words beginning to affect his best friend, as some of that dread transformed into the slightest bit of hope, so he continued. 

“Maybe you don't need training. Maybe all that you need to survive, you already have, right here" he said, pointing to his forehead. “I mean, who needs fighting when you have the brain of the Winn Schott of district 2?!"

Winn, though wanting to seem dejected, couldn't help but feel a little hopeful. He knew deep down that he wasn't a good fighter. Nor was he to become one, in as little as a few weeks. But he was sharp. A combination of smart and surprisingly fast feet perhaps could be enough to survive. 

“C'mon, training's over. Let's get out of this depressing place" he said as he got up and offered his friend a hand. To his relief, Winn took it and got up with a grateful smile replacing his frown. They put their weapons back and headed out into the streets of 2.

“You're right!", Winn said, just a little jumpiness in his voice. “I mean the tributes are mostly dumb. I could probably outlive most of them. And the remaining, well they'll kill each other!"

Mon El knew he didn't mean that. He knew it wasn't enough. He knew Winn was still scared. But for now, he was just relieved to see his friend smiling and couldn't help but grin himself, when suddenly a shriek tore through the air. It was a girl's scream that hit Mon El right in the ears. It didn't take him more than two seconds to figure out whom the voice belonged to, and it terrified him to the core.

“Maya”, he said to no one in particular and rushed straight towards his house, leaving Winn confused, on the street.

He kept running as fast as a human could, for the cry for help stuck in his head, 

And he could hear nothing else .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see this chapter as the beginning of the story. The first 2 chapters were kind of like introductions to our aliens. This chapter, however, marks the beginning of the plot line. Some of you may notice that I've taken some points from Prices Of Love, because Damn! That fic is good!  
But this pretty much marks the last similarity that Invincible will have with that story.
> 
> Special Mention: I love the training scene from Catching Fire and have always wanted to write it down. So that's the intro here!
> 
> Until next time!  
(And also... did I mention MelWood got married?!!)


	4. Bonds They Built

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While it was true, that the research that went on in district 12, the science district of Panem, could potentially be used for the betterment of the entire human race, there remained one thing that prevented the very same from happening.
> 
> The Capitol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so this is a very long chapter! In hindsight I could've broken it into two parts, but I didn't want to break the trend of starting and ending the chapter with the same line, so... Enjoy, I guess?!

She was safe for now. 

At least that was what Maya kept telling herself as she sat under a tree, trying to get some rest. She wanted to stay alert; ready for a second's escape. But she was tired and hungry and just wanted to go home. 

Maybe a quick nap wouldn't be so bad. ‘After all' she reminded herself, ‛There's nothing to worry about, as long as he's around'. But right as she was about to give in to sleep, the crunch of a twig nearby caused her to look up.

What she saw before her left her aghast.

Four people stood in front of her, two of whom were holding a fifth man who was covered entirely in blood. Maya couldn't recognize the man, as his face hung low and his body was limp. He seemed barely aware of his surroundings and appeared to be quite at the brink of death. Maya froze as her mind went completely blank upon acknowledging the scene. She was terrified when all of a sudden, the injured man lifted his face. What she thought was the most fear she could feel, turned out to be only the beginning. For when she saw that bruised face, she could no longer breathe. 

“Mon El?" she said with a shaky voice. 

Mon El used up the last wisp of energy he had left, as he voiced just one word. 

“Run" he whispered, right before collapsing right in front of Maya. 

So she ran. As fast as she possibly could. She could hear arrows flying all around her as the four people started attacking. A knife flew right next to her, missing her ear by mere inches. Her mind was numb. She felt anger, fear and grief, all at once. She desperately tried to think of a way to escape her misery. But all she could think of was his face. She could feel tears blurring her vision, but she kept running. Because that was the last thing he had said to her. To run. It was the last thing he would ever say to her. Because he was dead. The man who had been there for her through it all. Her brother, her family, was dead.

She kept running for as long as she could remember when all of a sudden an arrow pierced her right in the back.

She woke up screaming.

After running down five blocks at a frustratingly slow pace, Mon El finally reached his house and rushed through the wooden front doors. Once inside, he super-sped up the stairs and stopped directly in front of her room. In there, he saw two females looking up at him. They both resembled each other yet, their eyes were a different story altogether. One had soft, pained eyes, a clear result of crying, while the other had distant yet warm eyes.

Seeing warmth in Rhea's eyes was a rarity, Mon El thought. But perhaps the cold was meant only for him.

"Mon El", the girl with the teary eyes said, as she got out from her bed and rushed towards him, embracing him as tightly as she could. Though Mon El couldn't really feel her touch, he reciprocated with an intensity matching her own. He could feel her trembling under his arms, as she kept sobbing. He hated to see her like this. But what was worse, was that there was nothing he could do to end her suffering; no way he could protect her from those nightmares. So all he did, was all that he could do. He stood there and hugged his Earth sister as she shed tears of fear. Fear that was instilled in her by the Capitol. 

“It was you!”, she suddenly whimpered. “They stabbed you and then shot me with an arrow” she cried even more, reliving the terrible experience in her mind all over again. 

‘So he had been stabbed this time’, Mon El thought. Had someone on Daxam told him about a dream they had, that involved his violent death, he wouldn’t have wasted a second in locking himself in his room with about a dozen guards stationed out front. But that changed when Daxam was destroyed. He had realized, on Earth, that he was no longer of royal blood. Here, he was just as special as the boy next door. His life was just as much in peril as everyone else’s. So nightmares like these no longer induced fear of death. They were pretty much the norm of reaping day.

Maya’s sobs were beginning to die down a little, so, with great difficulty, he pulled her away from him and kneeled down to face her. She had her eyes shut tightly, so he gently caressed her hair and asked her to look at him.

When she did, he could feel the pain that resonated within her eyes. “Look at me.”, he said. “I’m alive. We’re both safe”, he said warmly, but authoritatively. Her sobs had now turned into sniffles, so he continued, “And what have I told you to do, anytime you have a dream like this?"

“To look around?", she asked in a strained voice. 

“Exactly. You're home. We're both safe here, right?" he asked her gently.

She nodded, as her eyes wandered a little across her room. 

Noticing how she had stopped crying altogether, Mon El decided to try something that could cheer her up before they had to report for reaping.. 

“We still have some time before the reaping. Why don't we go to the falls?" he asked. To his relief, she gave him a short nod and an even shorter smile. Wiping the remains of tears on her face, he then asked her to freshen up as, “I can't splash water on your face if it's already wet!", he joked, diffusing the tension just a little. She gave him a short but tight hug before leaving the room.

As soon as she was gone, the smile on Mon El's face faded, as worry began to set in. Over the years, he had tried his level best to protect Maya from the nonsense that were the games. He had kept her away from it all just so she would never need to feel the pain that he had seen nearly every person in the district burdened with. But every year, reaping day began with nightmares. And every year, he was forced to realize how he had failed to look after his beloved sister. 

Just then, he noticed Rhea, who was sitting on Maya's bed till now, walking toward the door, ignoring his presence completely. He wasn't surprised, especially on seeing disapproval on her face. 

“It's not safe today" she said stopping at the bedroom door. “Peacekeepers are all over the place. You can't take her to the forest, you'll get her caught."

District 2 shared its boundary with district 7 on one side, while a vast forest lay on the other side. It was considered restricted territory as an electric fence separated the district from the woodland. According to the Capitol, the fence was to protect the people from wild animals and other such dangers that lived nearby. But it was Mon El’s theory, that the fence was meant to ensure that people from different districts never got together, for the forest was the only piece of land that separated district 2 from district 12. Political boundaries could be manned and kept under control by peacekeepers, but the same could not be said of the geographical borders of the nation.

Fortunately for three people in district 2, Mon El had a weird effect on electricity. He could not only control it, but also heal from it. What would be a fatal shock to a human, was a power boost for the Daxamite. Therefore, the fence had never been able to stop the curious mind of the alien from exploring nearly every inch of the forest.

The aforementioned falls lay about a day’s journey from the fence. As tedious as it may seem for a Terran, for an alien with abilities like flight and super speed, it was anything but. That was why Mon El often took his sister and his best friend there. In a district that lacked green entirely, Mon El wanted to ensure that Maya could enjoy the true nature of nature.

“I’ll keep her safe. I always do”, Mon El said, confidently, without turning to face Rhea. “It’s bad enough that today’s the reaping. She deserves some time away from all this.”

“But you can’t take her away from it all, can you?” she replied, without missing a beat, her voice laced with accusation. “There will come a time when she will need to face her fears and she will have to do it on her own.”

Receiving silence from him, Rhea continued, her voice raised ever so slightly, “Like it or not, you can’t save everyone”, she said as a single tear blurred her vision, as she stressed on every syllable. With that, she left the room, not seeing the teardrop that spilled on the floor where he stood.

An hour or so later, as Mon El sat with his back to a tree watching Maya play with water nearby, his mind was filled with emotions too jumbled to comprehend. That was when he heard Capitol trucks approaching. And with that, his mind went completely blank, as all he could focus on now, was what was about to follow.

The Reaping

That was all she could think of, as she dragged the weighty deer across the ground. It was much easier when she was flying. But she had to stop when she had come in the vicinity of the old, broken fence. It would have been a piece of cake for her to fly the deer over the fence, but instead she had to drag it through the small hole in the metallic barrier. She considered it quite fortunate that the wires were almost never live like they were supposed to be.

Kara was just a few steps away from home, as she pulled the dead animal across the grass, pretending to strain when in reality, she could probably balance the whole thing on her little finger. She knew there was no one to see her, for she had been timing this correctly for years. Her Kryptonian discipline and punctuality, had helped her set up a routine for herself, which ensured that she could return from the forest long before people started showing up for work in the many factories that she passed on her way home. To add to it, reaping day was a national holiday for all of Panem. Today of all days, it was much easier to avoid people; a relief to an identity-hiding alien.

It was perhaps the one good thing about reaping day.

She reached her house and pulled open the front door. Inside, she hauled the deer across the room and placed it in the far corner. She then took a few steps back and inhaled deeply. When she exhaled, a blast of cool air shot through her mouth. There appeared a fog of ice as the temperature in the deer's vicinity cooled down considerably. As soon as the icy air touched the deer, it began to crystalize. A thin and clear sheet of ice formed all across its skin, without causing any damage to the meat. Within seconds, it appeared to be in a cryo-freeze compartment; intact in every sense. Even the expression of pain on its face was well preserved and could be clearly seen.

It was a useful trick that she had learned early on. Her ‘freeze breath’ had the ability to not only reduce the temperature, but also create an outer layer that ensured that the inner temperature remained constant. It was like being able to create a portable mini refrigerator with her breath. 

Once content with her work, she closed her eyes and stood silently, focussing her hearing on the numerous sounds that circulated throughout the house. Immediately, she could identify exactly where each of her parents were. She could hear her father in the dark room upstairs, testing out his latest hypothesis. Her mother, it seemed, was in the backyard tending to the latest batch of saplings.

She quickly made her way to greet her. 

She stood behind the transparent screen that separated the back room from the yard, as she watched Alura writing something in her notebook. She pushed open the screen door to join her in the twilight, which was now rapidly transforming into sunlight, as the sun began to rise. Kara loved watching the sunrise from their backyard. It reminded her of a similar view that she used to have back on Krypton.

Kara walked as quietly as she could, trying to sneak up on her mother, when promptly,

“You’re home early”, Alura said, without even needing to turn to acknowledge the presence of her daughter standing behind her. “How did you know?!”, Kara whined. “Sometimes I think you have super hearing too”, she said as a smirk appeared on her face. “Who knows? Maybe I’m the special one!”, Alura responded, as she greeted her daughter with a warm smile and a hug. 

And just like that, Kara could feel all her worries slipping away. She couldn’t help but smile at how calm her mother could make her feel, irrespective of whatever she was going through mere minutes ago. Guilt, anxiety and fear, somehow molded into peace as she hugged the woman who had found her in that pod about 16 years ago, when she was nothing more than a lost child from Krypton.

As they separated, Alura returned to her plants as Kara watched her with a mix of amazement and curiosity.

Krypton was an advanced race; much more advanced than Earth, at least. Yet Kara couldn’t help but stare at the many discoveries that the people of this planet had successfully made. To say that Earth had the potential to achieve greatness, was an understatement to her, for she was truly impressed by the many advancements that the planet had made in the last few centuries, and being from Krypton, a world that considered science as its staple, Kara wasn’t easy to impress. 

She followed Alura into the maze-like path that was formed entirely of crops varying from mid-size, to almost a head taller than Kara. She could never get used to the beauty that radiated from their garden, for almost each plant was somehow different than its original counterpart. She stopped right in front of a plant that bore red cubes. The cubes, as she had learned from Alura, were tomatoes.

“The square shape allows the farmers to pack 35% more tomatoes per carton. It’s more efficient”, Alura said, as she found her daughter staring at the fruit.

Further on, at the far corner of the yard, lay a transparent box, that was sealed shut, with a seed inside. Alura walked over to the other side of the box and opened it. With a dropper in hand, she put one drop of a clear blue liquid on the seed. In seconds, the seed began to germinate. “It’s a prototype. I call it the magic bean”, Alura explained to her wide eyed daughter. “If it passes just a few more tests, the magic bean has the potential to virtually end hunger problems.”

“I seriously doubt that”, Kara muttered, receiving a warning look from Alura.

While it was true, that the research that went on in district 12, the science district of Panem, could potentially be used for the betterment of the entire human race, there remained one thing that prevented the very same from happening.

The Capitol.

It was the Capitol’s belief that Panem was divided into two parts.The rich (people of the Capitol) and the people that ensured that the rich remained comfortable (people of the districts). Therefore, according to them, the first right to any and every knowledge pertaining to even the smallest discovery, belonged to the betterment of the Capitol. And whatever they could spare, could then be used by the districts.

Then there were the games; the Capitol’s ultimate weapon. The games ensured that the people had something to work for. They gave the districts the will to work in such unfair circumstances. At the same time, it reminded everyone that not only could the mighty power of the Capitol take everything from you, but also, that there was nothing you could do about it. Although she hated this revolting system, even Kara had to agree on how efficient it was in instilling fear in the minds of people and thereby establishing absolute control.

She was sure of that, because of the fear that she felt herself, almost every minute. She was ten Earth years old when her Earth father had told her the story of an alien named Kall. He had made contact with Earth, by crashing right in the middle of the Capitol about twelve years before she had landed. But he made two mistakes: first, he wasn’t a humanoid; he looked out of place, and second, he didn’t know Terran English. As a result, the Capitol, presuming and labelling his intentions as sinister, captured him and used him for research thereby testing and torturing him in their many ways. William had told Kara that it was about three weeks later, when he couldn’t bear the pain and finally died.

Kara had been completely shaken by that story. It took her months to build up the courage to step outside of the safety of her house again. But after that story, she had never even considered revealing her identity to anyone ever again.

The sound of the morning broadcast broke her from her trance, as she turned to the Capitol assigned Holo in their house which turned on by itself and now had the usual Reaping day morning message displayed on it.

‘ _ Happy Hunger Games. And may the Odds be ever in your Favour’ _

“I should go” Kara said, as Alura was finishing up in the yard. Along with hunting, the woods were a great place to gather fruits and other items that were of utility to people all over the district. Due to the poverty-ridden condition of 12, the people here had initiated and maintained a local barter system. Bread in return for squirrel meat, clothes in exchange for fruits and other such exchanges were considered valid. Kara had managed to create quite a network for herself. It helped her go to the forest without being reported. In exchange, she brought fruits, flowers, extracts, meat and other such valuable items. She had even managed to bring in a few peacekeepers in the deal, for the offer of fresh turkey meat was irresistible to their spoiled stomachs.

She left as Alura told her to hurry back before the ceremony began. Deviating from her usual path, Kara went directly to Mayor Tessmacher’s house. On other days, she had almost five houses to stop by, but today understandably none of them wanted to open their doors. Today, almost everyone preferred to spend as much time as they could with their loved ones before possibly having to say goodbye to them forever. The Mayor’s house however, was different. 

Mayor Tessmacher was a decent man. Like every other citizen of the districts, he too hated the very idea of the games. However, unlike everyone else, he was expected to celebrate the games and all other  _ festivities  _ related to the games. He was supposed to be on stage and somehow enjoy this contorted concept. Kara felt sorry for him, for he was not only a good man, but also perhaps the most consistent customer Kara had.

She knocked on the medium sized maple door of the Tessmacher’s household. A minute later, the Mayor’s daughter Eve answered. 

Eve was as close to a best friend as Kara could have on Earth. She adored the girl for her optimistic approach to everything. Although she had faced some unfair circumstances, like the death of her sister or her mother collapsing because of it, she never let it bring her down. She continued to hope for the best, and Kara admired that a lot. She trusted her (but not enough to let her in on her secret).

Eve greeted her with her trademark smile, but Kara noticed that it was not as bright as always. She smiled back as Eve handed her money in exchange for some freshly picked strawberries. Kara realized that Eve was far too quiet, but decided not to ask for the reason. ‘Maybe depression of the reaping finally got to her’, she thought as she was about to leave, when Eve grabbed her hand to stop her.

“There’s something I have to tell you”, she said, keeping an eye on her surroundings, ensuring to speak in a low enough volume so no one else could hear her. Kara leaned in, worried by the serious expressions on her happy-go-lucky friend.

“You know how the names in the bowl are cumulative?”, she asked. Kara nodded, unsure of where Eve was going with this. Every three years, the number of times that each person’s name was entered in the reaping bowl increased by one. So, a 13-year old would have their name in once, while a 24 year-old would have their name in as many as 31 times. This excluded the tesserae.

“Well, that’s the case for everyone, except for the Mayor’s daughter”, Eve continued, “So your name’s in there 22 times, but mine is in only 10 times.” She looked up as she said, “That’s really unfair, so I removed 6 of your names.”

Kara didn’t know what to feel. A turmoil of emotions led mostly by anxiety filled up her mind as she said, “Eve! Why would you do that? They’ll count the names in the end. They’ll figure out whose name isn’t present!”, panic clear in Kara’s voice.

“Kara, calm down! You didn’t let me finish.” Eve said trying to stop the growing panic in her best friend’s eyes. “I removed your names and replaced them with mine. We’ve grown up together. I just wanted us to have an equal chance at survival”

The turmoil in her mind did not subdue. Instead, it grew ten-fold, when Kara understood the repercussions of what Eve had done. She had swapped 6 names. Which meant that if Eve got picked, chances were, it was meant to be Kara.

Dumbstruck by what Eve had done, Kara couldn’t find it in her to say anything. Because a ‘Thank You’ was selfish while a ‘How could you?!’ was worthless. Instead she hugged her silently, while Eve being herself, bid her goodbye with a warm smile.

Kara couldn’t think straight. For the first time, reaping had scared her even more than it usually did.

When Kara finally reached home, she could barely hear what her father said about the deer lasting them for an entire month. She went straight to Alura and embraced her. Alura, sensing that something was wrong, quickly hugged her back without knowing the actual cause of the problem, and tried to calm her down.

In that moment, Kara let go of all the things she was feeling. She simply embraced her mother

And while she knew it wouldn’t last for long (she could hear the Capitol trucks approaching), she tried to hold on to that one moment for as long as she could

Because she felt safe for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took quite a while to write! But I am so glad I can post it on time.  
Because next up is the chapter I am VERY excited about...
> 
> The Reaping!
> 
> Until Next Time!


	5. So you Reap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I volunteer as Tribute"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincere apologies for the delay. I was all set to post this chapter on Saturday, but then MelWood sang together and well, that was pretty much it for me!! I mean can you believe that duet?!! I am honestly in awe of the chemistry they have.   
So. Much. Talent!
> 
> Anyway, now that my rant of happiness and joy is over, here's a depressing chapter!  
Enjoy!

She quickly wiped away the tears that threatened to spill from her eye.

Rhea was furious when her children had finally showed up, late, as she could see a crowd already forming near the District Training Centre. One look at their mother sent both of them rushing to their respective rooms, hurrying to get ready within the next few minutes. Mon El was the first to arrive. 

When Rhea looked up at him descending the stairs, she found herself at a loss for words. Emotions rushed her mind, as she took note of her adopted son’s attire. He wore a collared, light grey shirt with a matching pair of trousers. On top, he wore a simple, moderately dark jacket, buttoned up, with its lapel running diagonally like a sash. What added sentiment to the entire get up, was how much he resembled his father.

‘His  _ adoptive _ father’, Rhea reminded herself. 

Hector Roqford was a kind and generous man. Like others in the district, he didn’t have much wealth to call his own, but even then, he ensured that his family could survive even the harshest of days. He was a man of ideals, and never backed away from helping someone in need. It was his compassion that had made him run to the small boy lying unconscious in the middle of a small impact crater near their house, his empathy that made him not only bring the boy inside, but also raise him as his own for years to come. 

Rhea was brought up to appreciate the games, as they provided their district with sufficient resources. But Hector had made her see reason and convinced her that the games were nothing more than a way for the Capitol to hold control over all of Panem. He was instrumental in Rhea becoming one of the few mothers in district 2 that did not force her children to volunteer. Her husband’s persuasiveness had worked yet again, when it came to accepting Mon El as a part of their family. It was difficult, at first, for Rhea to open her life to a stranger from another planet. It had taken her almost a year, before she could finally accept him as her son. But things had changed about two years after that, when Maya was born. She had seen Mon El’s wide eyes as he stared at his baby sister with curiosity, owing to never having seen a human baby before. She had smiled at how scared he had been when Maya had grabbed his finger with her tiny little hand. 

The day he had promised her to always look after his sister, was the day that Rhea had fully accepted the Daxamite as her eldest son. Together, with Hector, she had taught him how to use and control his powers. Over the years, he had done his best in becoming a wonderful elder brother to Maya. Those were the best five years for the Roqford family.

It all ended abruptly, with the death of Hector.

The sound of footsteps rushing down the stairs broke her from her reverie, as Maya skidded to a halt right in front of her. She smiled at her daughter, as a nervous smile adorned Maya’s face. Mon El walked over to Maya and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. 

“Don’t you look nice”, he said with an earnest smile, easing some of the tension on her face. Mon El offered Maya his hand which she grabbed as they quickly made their way out the door and into the streets. Rhea followed them, noticing how confident Maya was around her brother and how Mon El never failed to stay vigilant when it came to his sister. It just reminded her of how true he had remained to his word of always looking after Maya.

Rhea knew that blaming him for what had happened to her husband was wrong. She knew that her son had been just as devastated when they got the news as she was. But she needed someone to blame, and Mon El was the only one there.

As the trio walked down the street, they were joined by numerous other people. Maya could never get used to the celebratory tone that radiated from the crowd in what was supposed to be a grim affair. She observed smiles on almost every face. Families were gathering by the stands, chatting and laughing away as though they were out for a picnic on this bright and sunny day. She couldn't relate to happiness that was brought on by the reaping, because she had never felt it. Because for her, reaping day, was synonymous to killing day. Of course, the actual killing happened in the arena, in the games, but reaping was the day that signed up the tributes for this horrible fate. It was today, that turned tributes into corpses or murderers. Either way, the way of life that the tributes had right until their names got called, died today. 

She looked over to her side, and found Mon El looking up straight, with his chin lifted up, just a little. It was something he did when he was scared. He would never admit it, but Maya could see right through him. She had heard the rumours of Samantha Arias volunteering and she knew that no one among the boys would dare to volunteer against her. She also knew that being among the oldest, Mon El had a greater chance of getting picked. But she stopped herself from straying any further. It was her intuition that told her that her brother would not get picked today. It gave her some hope, which she would grab on to, for the rest of the ceremony.

* * *

“You look lovely my dear", Alura smiled as she saw her daughter standing in front of her. It brought tears to her eyes when she acknowledged how the little girl from Krypton had grown up to become the beautiful young woman before her. 

Kara wore a simple grey dress with a white jacket that appeared to be flowing down to her knees. Her golden blonde hair shone in the soft sunlight that entered the room from the window behind her. Alura felt elated at how radiant her daughter looked in clothes that once belonged to her. Until last year, Kara was slightly shorter than Alura, and so wore ragged clothes that she had found for herself as part of the numerous barters all across the district. But today, she was as tall as Alura, and thus, wore a dress of better quality and elegance. Before marrying William, Alura was a healer at an apothecary that was placed in the slightly wealthier parts of district 12. As a result, she always dressed well, in comparison to others living in the outskirts. She had always dreamed of a daughter with whom she could share not only her dresses, but also her knowledge. She had found that daughter in Kara. 

Kara's face, in stark contradiction to her appearance, had a dismal look. Alura knew just how much her daughter hated the day of the Reaping. She remembered the many years it had taken William and Alura to convince their strong-headed girl not to condemn the games openly. What made it even more difficult, was how much they agreed with her. She had told them how life was like on Krypton; how they had overcome the many problems that had plagued their society. It was difficult, at first, to make her understand why that wouldn’t work for people in Panem, but over the years she had realized that people here knew that a change was needed. They just had no one to bring it about.

But the reaping wasn’t bothering Kara as much today, Alura could tell. It was Eve. When Alura had heard of what her daughter’s best friend had done, she had felt a mix of grief and gratitude. But most of all, she felt proud of the little girl that grew up in the Mayor’s house. She had always admired the courage in Eve that gave her the strength to smile even in the face of evil. After her mother had collapsed, Alura had done everything she could to care for the innocent little girl. She appreciated the friendship she had shared with her own daughter over the years. Alura loved Kara to the Sun, but knew that making friends on an alien world would not be her strong suit. It was therefore that she was glad to have Eve in their lives.

Alura walked over to her daughter and embraced her, noticing how quickly she hugged back. When they separated, Alura opened her hand to reveal a tiny object. She picked it up and showed it to Kara, which immediately brought a spark in her eyes.

It was a diamond shaped pin with an ‘S’. It was gift from Eve. 

To the common eye, there was nothing special about it. In fact, Eve had next to no clue regarding the significance of this particular pin. To her, not unlike every other eye in the district, it was a simple piece of jewellery, where the ‘S’ stood for ‘Science’, since district 12 was the science district of Panem. But the moment Kara had seen it for the first time, she had been overwhelmed by a bout of nostalgia. 

Because the way the ‘S’ had been written was painfully similar to a word written in Kryptonian. In her native language, that symbol, roughly translated to “Hope”. When Eve had given her the pin, she had thought that her friend had found out about her secret. But one look at her clueless eyes had told her otherwise. Ever since then, she had kept this pin as a prized possession. Apart from the pod that she had landed in (and her mother’s necklace, which she had lost in the woods somewhere), Kara didn’t have many belongings. But the pin of Hope, as she called it, was one that she would treasure for years to come.

Alura affixed the pin on her left sleeve, as Kara uttered a quiet ‘Thank You’. Once she was ready, she took in a deep breath before finally making her way out the doors, ignoring the Holo that announced that District 2 had yet again scored two volunteers.

When William looked at his daughter, his heart swelled with pride. He had seen her struggle to accept her fate. He was inspired by how true she had remained to her ideals, even after everything that she had been through. When he had first taken her to the woods, to get an estimate on her super-abilities, he had been amazed beyond belief. It was then, that he had, for the very first time, realized exactly how powerful their daughter was. If she wanted to, she could completely take over the world. But her greatest strength, was her compassion. It was what made him feel like she deserved to be the most powerful woman in the world. Being a man of science, her abilities had inspired him to try to achieve even the unachievable. But the very same abilities, had led him to hide her from everyone, especially the Capitol.

Standing in the parent’s square, behind all the tributes, William held Alura hand firmly, as they both anxiously awaited the ceremony to begin.

Kara made her way through the cluster of people filing through the sign in area. All around her, she saw individuals of all ages, walking through the systematic queues, just like prisoners walked through the corridors of jail. 

‘A fitting description', she thought to herself.

“Next”, the woman at the table in front of her said, with her arm extended. Kara gave her her right arm, which the lady grabbed, quickly piercing her thumb with a small device. She then pushed her thumb onto a block in the register in front of her and using the back of the same device, scanned the smear of red. Within seconds, the device beeped and Kara was allowed to go inside, where she walked all the way to the end until she reached the place where all 22-year olds, like herself, were placed. She quickly found Eve’s familiar face in the crowd and smiled at her. She smiled back, as Kara simply moved to stand right next to her. No words were spoken between the two, as they waited in silence for the reaping to commence.

* * *

Donavon ‘Don’ Silvester, a bald and hefty man, was welcomed onto the stage with a thunderous applause. He smiled at his audience before taking over the microphone. His voice boomed on the numerous speakers, as he said, “Welcome to the 74th Annual Hunger Games!”, enthusiasm clear in his voice. The crowd roared with a volume so high, it drilled through Mon El’s skull.

Without wasting another moment, Don silenced his audience. “I know that by now this is just a formality, but we must follow the rules”, he said in an amused tone. “Let us begin with the ladies”, he said, right before making his way to the large glass bowl, filled with paper slips, to his left. 

His “Cheryl Offsbrey” was immediately followed by an “I volunteer” from the audience. Although not everyone could see where in the audience, the voice came from but nearly everyone knew whom it belonged to.

Samantha Arias lowered her raised hand before making her way through the crowd and arriving at the pathway that lead straight to the stage. A split second later, silence was replaced entirely by cheers and screams of encouragement, as peacekeepers lead the female volunteer of district 2 onto the stage. 

Mon El watched, as he noticed her determined eyes. He observed her face, as they bore an expression of pure confidence that left no doubt in the spectator’s mind. She was here to win. And anyone standing in her way, would be met with the most unpleasant fate.

After a small dialogue between Don and Sam, he finally made his way to the bowl with the boy’s names. Mon El noticed Winn tense up a little. He felt nervous, himself. After having survived the reaping all these years, Mon El couldn’t help but feel anxious about making it through his last one. All his senses were heightened, as he could see and hear everything. He closed his eyes. Right from the murmurs of anticipation to the scratching of the paper slip that held within it the name of the male tribute, he could hear all of it. ‘Not me’, he found himself selfishly thinking as Don began to announce the chosen name.

“Winnslow Schott”

For the first time in all his time on Terra, Mon El doubted his hearing. His wishful thinking did not last for long though, as he glanced over to see the shell-shocked expressions on Winn’s face. Silence transitioned to whispers that spread across the entire crowd, as Winn tried his best to compose himself, as he walked through the group of stares.

He felt numb as he made his way over to the peacekeepers that were waiting for him. He felt tears, fear and anxiety threatening to take over, but he pushed them back and tried to remain as calm as he possibly could. He noticed as the peacekeepers grew nearer with every step that he took. He wanted to turn and run away. But he didn’t. He had almost reached the central path when

“I volunteer”

Heads spun, as everyone, including Winn, looked in the direction of the sound, trying to determine the source.

The sight of Mon El lowering his raised arm was the last thing Winn remembered as the crowd cheered in the background.

* * *

‘This is wrong’. 

These were the only words that Kara’s mind could form, as Effie Trinket voiced the name “Evelyn Tessmacher” on the microphone. She looked over to her side, and saw the frail form of her best friend. She noticed how she tried her best to compose herself, but couldn’t stop from tearing up. A few seconds passed before Effie announced the name again, and Kara found herself hoping for the name to change the second time. But it didn’t.

It wasn’t until another few seconds and peacekeepers making their way across the crowd, that Eve finally found the strength to move. Kara watched the fragile form of her human friend make her way across the numerous people staring at her. She noticed, before anything else, how vulnerable she seemed, as her feet seemed to carry her all the way towards the peacekeepers that waited for her like guards waiting to take away a criminal for a death sentence. 

Kara entered a dazed state, as she tried to make sense of the numerous emotions that flooded her mind all at once. She could feel grief, muddled with fear that gave rise to a chaos that she had never felt before. She couldn’t make sense of anything, as pure remorse took over her entirely. Lurking at the back of all this, was guilt. It caught her by surprise and threatened to overwhelm her. Because Kara knew what Eve had done. She realized that her name being called out could mean one thing. 

It was supposed to be Kara.

Right from the moment Eve’s name had been called, Kara had been stuck to her spot, owing to the jumble of feelings that ruled over her mind. But it wasn’t until the final emotion of anger seethed through her, that she found it in herself to move. Adrenaline took over, coupled with anger directed towards the injustice of the Games, as she rushed behind Eve, calling her out. Everyone, including Eve turned to look at her. Kara noticed Eve’s eyes that were now puffy as tears had begun flowing freely over her face. She held her gaze for about half a second, before any trace of emotion left from Kara’s eyes altogether. She composed herself and looked straight at the stage before declaring in a clear voice,

“I volunteer.”

She passed Eve, and continued to walk, not stopping until she reached the stage and took her place next to Effie. She was asked for her name, to which she responded mechanically. Before moving on, however, she looked over at the crowd and was stunned to see every person raising their right hand, extending three fingers, honouring her with respect. Kara felt tears threatening to spill, but she held them back, ensuring that she appeared nothing but strong for the multiple cameras pointed at her.

After that, she didn’t notice much. She saw a familiar face next to her, ‘James Olsen’, selected as the male tribute. She didn't pay much attention, as both the tributes shook hands and were escorted back-stage. She wanted to cry, but knew that now was not the time. So she remained poised. She could not afford to cry. Not when almost all of Panem could be watching her right at that moment. 

Yards away, Alura quickly wiped away the tears that threatened to spill from her eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and Gents, our outer space stray puppies are officially tributes for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!  
(Okay, perhaps that wasn't as happy an announcement as it probably seemed!)  
A couple of my friends were kind of confused about terms like 'tesserae', since they hadn't read the Hunger Games (shocking! I know!) So if there are any questions regarding the details of these Universes (HG and SG) or about how I will be managing both fandoms in this storyline, please let me know in the Comments.  
As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate all the hits, comments and kudos, and am so excited for what happens next!  
Until Next Time!
> 
> P.S. : To all the MelWood stans, we won!


	6. Familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They needed to be strong for everything that would follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the most emotional chapter I've ever written!  
enjoy?!

She needed to be strong. 

When the reaping ceremony had finally come to an end, Kara, along with her fellow tribute James, was taken inside the Justice building that lay at the exact centre of district 12. On ordinary days, the building was reserved for official purposes only, but the day of the reaping was no ordinary feat, as it marked the commencement of the infamous Hunger Games.

To her credit, she remained stoic all through the way, as peacekeepers led her through the winding corridors and ushered her into a small room with steel doors and no windows. Closing the doors shut behind her, they stood on the other side, making Kara realize that for the very first moment since the entire chaos had ensued, she was finally alone.

Her solitude didn’t last long, however, as mere seconds after the doors had been closed, they quickly reopened, revealing the two people that she wanted to see the most, right at that instant.

Alura rushed through and embraced her daughter, while Kara, still having difficulty comprehending everything that had transpired, remained still, barely registering her mother’s touch. In her mind, swivelled a cloud of incomprehensible emotions that had taken over her every thought. She couldn't keep herself from replaying all the things that had led her to this room, and left her like this. She wanted to cry, scream and run away. But none of that showed on her face, as her expressions remained impassive. 

Even with her super-hearing, she could not hear the racing heartbeat of her mother, who was trying her best to stifle her crying. She barely heard her own heart beating away at a speed faster than ever, as her breathing, though she had no control over it, was picking up a pace too. She didn't know for how long, but her trance wasn't broken by the many words that Alura said to her in an attempt to calm and soothe her. 

It was seeing tears in her father's eyes, that finally brought her back to reality. 

Ever since she had first met him, Kara had always thought of her father as a level-headed man. Surely, he was just as compassionate and generous as his wife. However, when it came to expressing his emotions openly, William had always preferred not to. Kara thus considered him a great person to have by her side, at times of crisis. She looked to him for hope, and he never failed to greet her with confidence. 

It therefore felt like someone had splashed cold water on her face to wake her, when she saw him tearing up. All of a sudden, a shudder ran through her, as her mental turmoil from before came rushing back to her, as an immediate dose of oxygen flooded her lungs. Instantly, her body reacted to all the chaos within her, as she responded to her mother’s embrace by hugging her with an immense intensity, forgetting momentarily that it would have surely hurt Alura. But if it did, Alura didn’t let it show, as she simply held her daughter in her arms, trying to give her the strength that she so desperately needed. A second later, she felt the arms of her father embracing them both in a family hug.

They remained like that for some time (but not long enough) before Alura broke their silent embrace and with a strength that almost paralleled Kara’s, held onto her daughter’s shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes.

“Don’t cry”, she said determinedly, as she saw the tear beginning to form in Kara’s eyes. At that moment, Kara saw just how much strength her mother’s eyes wielded. She noticed how Alura had willed away her tears, and was trying to get Kara to do the same. 

“There isn’t time to cry, sweetheart”, she continued, her tone denoting exactly how serious she was. “Now, do you remember everything we’ve discussed?”

Still trying her level best to compose herself, Kara responded with a weak nod.

When Alura and William had decided to raise Kara, they had known exactly what it would entail. They had known not only the dangers of bringing an alien into their lives, but also the horrors of the possibility of ever having to send that alien to the games. It was the scientist in them, that had ensured that they had a plan for every situation that their family could find itself into; this was no exception.

It was Kara’s 12th Earth birthday, when her parents had given her, possibly the most important, set of instructions of her life on Terra. They had given her every bit of information that they had found regarding the games. It was because of their hard work, that Kara knew, better than most in her district, exactly what would happen right until she reached the arena on the day of the games. It was crucial for her to pay attention to every detail, as it could help her survive in two ways; as a tribute and as an alien. While the former was certainly a priority, the latter was a must. She had constantly been told, by the people that cared for her the most on this planet, that under no circumstances, could she reveal her true origins to the Capitol. 

After hearing of the incident with alien Kall, she hadn’t required much convincing.

She held back the shudder that she felt upon remembering that story, and focussed instead on every word that left Alura’s lips, hanging onto them like a lifeline. Her Kryptonian instincts took over, as she stored every word in mind. They weren’t things she hadn’t heard before. But before, everything was different and she had her parent’s instructions memorized by heart. Today, she wasn’t so sure.

Alura finally concluded by asking Kara for her kryptonite ring. At the mention of the object that lay forgotten in her pocket, Kara carefully fished it out and placed it in her mother’s hand, a confused look on her face. “You won’t be needing this”, Alura responded, as she quickly placed the ring in her pocket, far from her daughter’s reach. She then removed a tiny bottle, that contained a clear green liquid, from her other pocket. Right as she opened the top, Kara felt a wave of weakness course through her. Alura took the pin of hope from Kara’s arm and carefully dipped its tip in the liquid kryptonite.

“They won’t allow the ring to be your personal item in the arena. It’s too sharp”, explained William. “Instead, your mother and I created this” he said, pointing at the bottle in Alura’s hands. “It’s a super concentrated form of kryptonite that solidifies on contact with any metal. Once it’s solid, it will dampen your powers if you touch it”, he explained, as Alura cautiously affixed the pin, that now had an emerald green tip, to Kara’s sleeve. “Don’t worry”, said Alura, sensing the worry on Kara’s mind. “It will only affect you if you touch it.”

Kara couldn’t help but awe over the brilliant minds that she had for parents. Hiding her true origins was one of the most basic needs that alien raising parents had. To ensure that no one got suspicious over the identity of their daughter, the Zorel’s had to ensure that Kara appeared as human as possible. While it was easy to hide her powers, they couldn’t simply do away with her impenetrable skin. That was when a green rock that they had found in a tiny compartment of Kara’s pod, had come to their rescue. At first, they had outright banished the rock, observing how it affected their daughter, making her weak and frail. But they quickly realized how they could take the one weakness that Kara had and use it to strengthen her human image in the district. The kryptonite ring, a simple ring with a tiny green stone, was their first invention. It had proven to be extremely useful over the years, as it had the ability to make her arm weak enough so the officials could draw blood from her index finger for the registration on reaping day. 

As she looked at the golden-green pin on her right arm, she heard the soft, almost imperceptible creak of the door handle. It was then that she realized the thing that she had been dreading the most.

Her time was up.

Her parents were given exactly five minutes to meet her (possibly for the last time), and she hadn’t been able to use even a second to tell them all the things that she had wanted them to know. Time moved in slow motion, as she rushed (in super speed maybe, she didn’t remember) and gave her parents a final hug, hoping that it conveyed all the thank-you’s that she wished to say to them. Right as they parted, peacekeepers opened the doors and escorted William and Alura outside. 

Just like that, she was left alone again. Although it had only been five minutes, Kara felt emotionally drained, as the tears that had threatened to overwhelm her just a while ago, were nowhere to be found. Considering everything else, however, she felt that it was a small relief that she had survived her emotional goodbye.

Just then the doors opened yet again and she came face-to-face with her best friend Eve.

* * *

“You can hunt."

These were the first words that Eve had said the moment the doors had closed behind her and she was sure that none of the peacekeepers on the other side could hear her. 

Kara couldn’t help but feel immense pride at that moment. When Eve had entered, the first thing that Kara had noticed, was the darkness below her eyes, indicating that she had been crying all this time. But now, as she looked at Kara, Eve had a certain perseverance in her eyes instead. It made Kara realize that she was rooting for her. That she wanted Kara to win. At that moment, more than any other, Kara felt extremely honoured to have Eve as her best friend.

The pride, however, was almost immediately followed by guilt, as it reminded her of the major reason that Eve was rooting for her.

She thought Kara was human.

A part of Kara couldn’t help but wonder what things would be like if Eve had known of her Kryptonian origins. Had she been just as supportive of her friend as she was now, or would she have accused her of letting people die every year in the games, knowing well enough that Terran weapons couldn’t hurt her? She stopped herself before further continuing down that road (She knew what her answer to that question was, and it did nothing to ease her guilt.)

“You’re pretty good with an arrow too”, Eve continued. “You’ve spent quite a lot of time in the forest and you know quite a bit about edibles and dangers. That should help you survive long enough.”

Long enough.

It was another thing that Kara had been dreading. Not only was she supposed to enter the arena, she was expected to watch innocent people die all around her. She imagined that the guilt for a human in such a situation must be enormous. For an invincible alien, it was downright unbearable. 

At that instant, she remembered the pin on her left sleeve, and it eased her guilt slightly.

For the next minute, Kara remained silent, as she listened to Eve ramble on about everything she could do to survive. She noticed the tinge of nervousness in her voice, but decided to let her get it all out. It wasn’t until a minute more, that Eve finally fell silent. That was when Kara reached over and hugged Eve, ensuring not to hurt her. Eve hugged back intensely, holding back her tears (aware that Kara tried to do the same) as she realized that in that moment, she could be saying goodbye to her best friend forever.

Before Eve left, Kara made her promise that she would look after her parents. Eve gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, right as the peacekeepers entered the room to escort Eve out the doors.

* * *

Mon El turned around just in time to catch his sister, as she ran directly to him and hugged him tighter than ever before. Relief washed over him, as he focussed on nothing but embracing his sister (when he had heard the clicking of the doors, he had expected peacekeepers to take him away.)

He felt Maya shaking in her arms as tears rolled down her eyes. He wanted to cry too. He wanted to comfort her; tell her that it would be okay. But it was a lie that even the Daxamite prince couldn’t manage.

For the longest time, they remained like that. The room was filled with silence, marked only with her sobs and sniffles. He didn’t know exactly how, but he was suddenly reminded of the little time that they had. Harshly, he pulled Maya away as panic settled in his mind, fuelled by the fear of not being able to tell her everything that he wanted to. Grabbing both her arms, he looked at her straight in the eyes, forcing himself not to cry.

“Maya, listen to me”, he said in a trembling voice, before inhaling deeply and willing himself to speak clearly. Wiping away her tears he said “Don’t cry. You need to stop crying, okay?” She tried but couldn’t comply, so he raised his voice slightly, ensuring that his voice contained the reassurance that she so desperately needed. He spoke in a controlled manner, hoping that his words didn’t give away the turmoil of fear that he felt inside him. While fear of the unknown plagued his mind, he had to ensure that Maya knew everything he had to tell her so she could be prepared for whatever was to follow. 

When peacekeepers had left him into this room, he had been on the brink of being overwhelmed, as anxiety, fear and dismay had entangled into one another, producing a feeling of despair so strong, it had almost brought him to his knees. It was in that moment, that his mind had reminded him of his sister. Just as suddenly as the chaos in his mind had ensued, it had vanished entirely, as it was instead replaced by conviction. He had instantly gathered himself as he realized what he had to do. All his fears could wait. Everything else didn’t matter as much.

She came first.

“Now, I don’t have much time, so I want you to listen carefully”, he continued, noticing (with a sigh of relief) that Maya had somehow managed to calm herself and had stopped crying. “No going in the forest alone. Any time you want to go, ask Winn to take you with him, alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “And when you’re crossing the fence, be very careful. You know the where the weak spot is, right?” She nodded. “And no tesserae. Ask Winn to teach you some hunting, but be very careful.”, he continued, stressing towards the end of the sentence. Over the years, he had seen Maya grow up to be an adventurous girl. He had tried his level best to instill a sense of safety and caution in her, but hadn’t succeeded as much as he would’ve liked.

He could tell that it was all too much for her. She was on the brink of tears, so he caressed her face as he said “Maya, you are one of the bravest girls I have ever known. You’re going to get through this, okay?” She didn’t say anything, so he continued, “I want you to say you’re going to be alright.” He bit his inner cheek to stop himself from crying as he said the next words. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, so I want you to tell me you’re going to be alright. Please”, he barely finished without tears clouding his vision.

“I promise I’ll be alright”, she whispered in her tear laced voice, as he felt a tiny part of him sigh with relief. With that he hugged her, wiping away the tears that had formed in his eyes, ensuring not to show her his weakening resolve. When they separated, he saw something other than fear in Maya’s eyes. It resembled the determination he had mere seconds ago.

She bit back her tears, as she reminded herself of why she was here in the first place. She reached in her pockets and grabbed a tiny object. She opened her palm in front of him, to reveal what it was. Maya could pin-point the exact moment when Mon El’s will not to cry had begun to break, as he stared at the drop shaped necklace in her hand.

He had found it in the forest. It was about a week after his father had died, when Mon El, unable to take the deafening silence of his house, had rushed to the forest in the hope to find some peace. He had cried, profusely that day. It was one of the few moments, when he had let go of his powers entirely. All of Panem had remembered that day as the time that dry lightning had struck their land, without ever realizing the true reason behind it. He had felt nothing but grief, as he had walked for the longest time. A dangerous hopelessness had threatened to devour him, when he stumbled upon a curious object.

It wasn’t the necklace itself that had caught his attention. It was the drop shaped stone that had suddenly made him feel nostalgic. He couldn’t quite understand why that was, until moments later, when he had realized how much the stone had resembled a gem from his home world. Thoughts of Daxam had snapped him back to reality, as hope replaced the dread in his mind. He remembered feeling something that resembled optimism. The necklace had reminded him that he was a survivor. That he would get through this, just as he had done before. It had given him the strength to walk back towards his home with a new resolve to make things work. Along with the sunrise, Mon El had welcomed the bright new day, with that necklace held tightly in his hand.

The very gesture that indicated how Maya wanted to be strong for her brother, was more than enough to bring forth the many tears that he had banished not seconds ago. As she tied the necklace around his neck, he felt the oncoming wave of grief threatening to take over when all of a sudden a rough pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Mon El, look at me,”, Rhea said, as calmly as she could, determined to tell him everything he needed to know before their time together was up. Staring into Rhea’s eyes, he saw warmth and conviction. Startled by her gaze, he managed to reign in the tears and stared at his mother. She quickly grabbed the blue gem of his necklace and pinned a tiny black dot to the tip. As soon as the dot was attached to the crystal, it revealed tiny structures that extended from the dot and held on to the gem firmly. “It’s nanotech”, Rhea explained eyeing the confusion on Mon El’s face. “It contains a trace amount of lead. You’ll be staying in the Capitol for the next couple of weeks, so they’ll be running some tests. Whenever that happens, just touch the dot. It’ll counter your abilities and you’ll be human for a while.”

Mon El stared into Rhea’s eyes as she hurriedly told him everything that he needed to know about the next few weeks. Although he focussed on her every word, nodding at times to let her know that he was paying close attention, he couldn’t help but feel taken aback by the warmth that radiated in her voice. He found the encouragement in her voice to be the one thing that was keeping him steady. For so long, he had wanted to see this warmth in her eyes. He just wished it were happening under different circumstances.

When Rhea was done, she took her son’s face in her hands and gave him a weak, albeit a reassuring smile. “Your father and I didn’t save you all those years ago, just so you could die in the games”, she said, tears forming in her eyes. “Promise me, that you will survive this.”

Momentarily robbed of his speech, he looked her straight in the eyes, as confidently as he could, before finally saying, “I promise.”

She hugged him right as the doors swung open, revealing that their time was up. He held on to his mother’s embrace for as long as he could before the peacekeepers ushered Rhea and Maya out the doors.

* * *

Winn had maintained his composure till now. But the moment he saw him standing alone in that room, he went berserk. Anger was the only thing in his mind, for as soon as the doors shut behind him, he walked straight towards his friend and with all the strength he had, pushed Mon El. Startled by this, Mon El tried to regain his balance, before Winn punched him in the shoulder, hurting himself more than Mon El. 

“What’re you doing?!”Mon El asked incredulously, dodging Winn’s fist, as he tried to punch him yet again.

“Shut up!” he all but shouted, receiving a stunned look from Mon El. “Shut up you selfish moron!” he breathed, pushing Mon El a final time, before rubbing his bruised knuckles and catching his breath. “How could you do that?”, he said in a volume much lower than before. “How could you volunteer?”

Confusion was replaced by realization, as Mon El remained silent and simply watched Winn with a forlorn look in his eyes. This only angered him even more, as he walked over to him again and asked, his voice seething with anger, “What about Maya? Did you even think about her? How can you you just leave her like that?”

Silence aggravated his fury, as he resolved to yet again punching his friend. “How can you do that to her, you son of a bitch!” he exclaimed. “Winn listen to me”, Mon El tried, but failed to grab his best friend’s attention, as he pushed him yet again. With every blow, Winn roared, “You’re all she has.” It wasn’t until his third punch, when Mon El noticed his bleeding knuckles that he finally grabbed Winn by the arms and all but yelled at his face, “Winn listen to me!”

Taking advantage of the silence he received because of how short of breath Winn fell, Mon El continued. “She had me”, he said, stressing on  _ had _ . “She has you now.”

Winn suddenly looked up, his eyes reflecting the pure rage that he felt. A few breaths later, however, that anger transformed into grief, as he quickly hugged his best friend. His eyes held tears which did not go unnoticed by Mon El as they broke away. “Promise me, Winn”, he continued. “Promise me you’ll keep them safe.”

“I swear I won’t let anything happen to them”, he replied, his genuineness clear on his face. When the doors opened again, Winn exited the room, silently, hoping that he could someday be free of the guilt of leaving his friend to die.

When he was finally left alone, the initial turmoil of emotions returned. He didn’t realize how much time went by, as he simply stood still, staring at the doors that had made him part ways with his family. After a while, when he heard the click of the door for the third time, he found no one but peacekeepers waiting for him on the other side. A second of doubt made him want to dash through them and run away towards freedom. But he knew he couldn’t. He forced away the panic that he felt, as he took one step after the other towards the group waiting for him, for he knew that this was only the beginning.

He needed to be strong for everything that would follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very dear to me, this chapter. I've always wanted to be able to write emotions, and have always considered that to be a difficult task. I'm really happy (or sad) with the way things turned out!  
Also, food for thought, this line didn't make the cut, but I see the events of this chapter as Kara and Mon El reliving Krypton/Daxam all over again!


	7. Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A true victor is made by the purpose that he carries."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we move onward!

He had a victor this year.

Harrison Wells had not been surprised by the outcome of the reaping; he had expected it. For as long as he could remember, his district had successfully produced capable volunteers for reaping, every year. It had therefore, not amazed him in the least, when a pair of strapping, young tributes had confidently claimed their spots on the stage. He had tuned out the raging crowd behind him in order to focus on their every move. He hadn’t noticed much, but could tell, from a single glance, that the girl radiated confidence (it was difficult to miss), while the boy maintained an enigmatic look. He had stared at him throughout the rest of the ceremony, scrutinizing his expressions, but could gather nothing from it.

It had intrigued him.

It was for this reason that Wells had been quietly waiting for Don to bring Mon El Roqford and Samantha Arias to the train that was supposed to leave for the Capitol in two minutes. As soon as the reaping was over, Wells along with his fellow mentor Caitlin Raymond, had made his way directly to the train station, instead of the District Centre, where the tributes were taken to meet their families and say their goodbyes. It had been almost twenty minutes before the glass doors of their train compartment slid open to reveal a talkative Don, closely followed by the District 2 volunteers who, in contrast to their presenter, remained quiet. His mind quickly focussed on them yet again, as Don showed them to their seats, listing the numerous features that the train housed, including what Wells assumed was the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the compartment. But Wells had ignored him because something else had caught his eye instead. It was the boy, again.

District 2, not unlike other districts, was poor. Even with the added advantage that 1, 2 and 4 had over the others, their exceedingly high number of victors, and the rewards of food and resources that they received in turn, their lifestyle was still way below what could be considered comfortable. To add to it, most of the district's earnings went straight to the development of the training centre. As a result, the entire layout of the various constructs in 2 could be defined as ‘practical'. From work rooms to houses, everything was designed to be just enough. It was another way of reminding the citizens of Panem that barring the Capitol, no one deserved riches. 

Hence, to go from the barely adequate environment outside to the extravagant interior of the Capitol-run train was unnerving for every tribute. This year's volunteers were no exception. 

Mon El could barely keep his surprise from showing on his face, as he all but stared at the many features of the train. He observed the numerous amenities that were spread throughout the compartment before noticing the amount of food that lay untouched on the table in front of them. 

But it wasn't until his gaze landed on the clear windows that sprawled across the sides of the room, that emotions started to cloud his face. The room around him transformed into one that existed, now only in his memory as he was reminded of the large windows of his room in the royal palace on Daxam. The glimpses of the scenery outside made him reminisce the view from his bedroom that allowed him to admire the grandeur of the world nearby. 

His world.

Don's ongoing commentary about the train broke him out of his reverie, as he quickly dismissed the surge of emotions, and reverted back to his former, stoic form, hoping that his eyes didn't give away his brief moment of pain. 

They did. 

Although it was a little too quick to follow, Wells did not miss the sudden change of emotions in the male tribute's eyes. Having seen various reactions from countless tributes, Wells had realized a long time ago, that the only things to be expected from the district-folk entering the train for the first time, were surprise, anger or grief. While he could explain the reasoning behind each of these emotions, he racked his brain for an explanation for what he saw in front of him. It piqued his curiosity, as he saw the look of familiarity flash in the male tribute’s eyes. For a split second, it felt as though he was remembering this place; like it was an essential part of his memory. Unlike his female counterpart, he didn’t eye the various comforts of the train. Instead, he seemed lost in what Wells incredulously thought was nostalgia, as his eyes remained fixed on the transparent glass windows. Just as suddenly as the flash had come, it disappeared entirely leaving his eyes inscrutable yet again. Harrison Wells, the victor of the 50th Annual Hunger Games, realized that he had never been as curious about any other tribute that he had previously mentored, as he was regarding Mon El Roqford. 

He was impressed.

A few moments passed in silence, as it took everyone in the room a couple of seconds to realize that Don had finally stopped talking. They sat quietly, as the mentors eyed their tributes, both of whom, had taken to look at the scenery outside. Wells looked to his side and noticed Caitlin quietly observing the tributes, just like him. It was one of the reasons that he liked working with her. Although she was young, she possessed the maturity and composure required as a mentor. That was of course until she was left in the arena. Wells still remembered how impressed he had been by the games that year. Not only was it the most complex arena ever created, it was also the most historically accurate one, as the entire arena was filled with nothing but glaciers, mimicking the ice age on old Terra. Caitlin Raymond had endured two harsh weeks, hunting and killing whenever necessary. Needless to say, after she had won, Wells had considered her nickname, ‘Killer Frost’ to be quite appropriate.

It was Don who broke the silence. 

“So, enough about the train. Tell us something about yourselves”, he said, turning to the tributes. When neither of them answered, Don felt the desperate need to keep the conversation going, and began to talk only to be cut off by Wells on his right. “Well, I think we know quite a bit about our volunteers already”, he said, pulling out a small databox and placing it at the centre of the table in front of him. As he turned it on, it projected the faces of Samantha and Mon El on an invisible, vertical screen made entirely of air, along with information pertaining to each of them. He turned first to Samantha’s records and scrolled through, reading out her academy scores. 

Within fifteen minutes, it was clear to everyone in the room that Samantha “Sam” Arias was a fighter. She had topped nearly every class that the training centre could offer, and was labelled a level 9 fighter; District 2’s academy had different skill levels that students could achieve, the maximum being 12. Her teachers had called her smart, fast and deadly with weapons. Needless to say, her mentors were impressed. Don even went so far as to take in a dramatic gasp when he learned that she had a perfect score in hand-to-hand combat, as he voiced his fascination, saying “No one’s ever had such good grades!” Everyone except for the two volunteers looked quite pleased. Caitlin continued to eye Sam’s record, while Wells flashed a smile at his female tribute. Sam looked even more confident than before, as a fearless grin adorned her face. Mon El, on the other hand, remained as cryptic as before, reading through the information on the screen in front of him. 

Wells then swiped through the screen and a second screen quickly replaced the space between them, with a layout identical to the previous one, the only difference being that instead of Sam’s photo, Mon El’s picture occupied that area. More impressed looks were exchanged, as Wells read Mon El’s profile description making everyone aware how his scores were almost entirely identical to those of Sam. He too was regarded as a level 9 fighter and was given among the highest scores in almost every area. Scrolling through, they realized that not only was he skilled with all the popular weapons’ courses in the academy, but also that he scored quite well in the less popular subjects such as nature-survival skills. Wells observed the subtle change on Sam’s face as her smile brightened slightly, making her seem excited at the prospect of fighting with her fellow tribute in the arena, while Mon El had taken to stare at an invisible spot at the bottom of the screen. A point-by-point comparison revealed that the two tributes complemented each other perfectly. What Sam lacked, Mon El made up for. It almost felt like a yin-yang relationship between the two, coupled with the fact that they were both as skilled as anyone could hope for, making their mentors conclude that picking one of the two to be their survivor was not going to be easy at all. From the corner of his eye, Wells noticed Caitlin battling the confusion that he himself would have faced, if it weren’t for his curiosity about the boy’s behaviour so far. 

“I think we can all agree that the tributes this year are, without a doubt, equally skilled”, Wells said, looking at the participants in front of him. He found both tributes looking at him directly in the eye, denoting that he had their full attention, so he continued. “But skills aren’t everything”, he said, before shutting off the data box causing the screen to vanish. “A true victor is made by the purpose that he carries. So, before we discuss strategies, I would like to know the reason behind you volunteering.” He turned his gaze to Sam, before voicing a carefully worded question, “So tell me miss Arias, why did you volunteer?”

Maintaining eye contact, Sam replied, “Because I will win”

Wells smiled at her response. He commended the amount of certainty that her voice carried. Next to him, he saw Caitlin smile as well, and could tell from her expressions, that her decision was made. He then turned his gaze to Mon El before asking, “And what about you mister Roqford?” He paused before placing his final question to the man, “Why are you here?”

Mon El’s eyes travelled down slightly, as though planning exactly what his response should be. He continued to look at the table in front of him, before answering, “Because anyone in my place would’ve lost.” He shifted his eyesight up and stared directly into Wells’s eyes, before saying, “Anyone but me.” From the corner of his eye, Mon El saw Sam’s lips curl into a smile, but ignored it, as he maintained eye-contact with his mentor. He noticed that Wells too was smiling, as a look of surprise quickly gave way to something that resembled satisfaction on his face. 

A moment passed before Don announced that it was getting rather late and how the tributes needed to be well rested before they reached the Capitol next morning. He then got up and ushered Mon El and Sam to the next train compartment, showing them to their rooms, before retiring for the day in his own room, leaving the District 2 mentors alone, to consider everything that had transpired right since the reaping began.

“I think we have our victor.” It was Caitlin who broke the silence. “Yes Miss Raymond”, Wells replied. “I think we do.”

When the door of his room finally slid to a close, Mon El stood still for a couple of seconds before realizing that for the first time since morning, he was alone. Rooted to his spot, he looked around the room he was given and judged according to the orangish light seeping through the window that the sun was setting already. He failed to understand how it had been only a few hours since he had hugged his family goodbye; it felt a lot longer. He closed his eyes and for the first time since the reaping, felt his face giving away his true emotions. He had maintained a facade that barricaded the chaotic feelings in his mind, because he had convinced himself that he needed to be strong. But as he was finally left alone, he felt the full force of emotions breaking down his walls, and yet, he couldn’t feel a thing. He registered fatigue, as he all but collapsed in the chair nearby. He realized how it was the perfect time to cry and let it all out, but the tears never came, for he had abandoned them for too long. He felt emotionally exhausted.

That was when he noticed the necklace around his neck. He clutched it tightly and tried his best to subdue the chaos in his mind. Leaning his head against the window, the last thing he remembered was the spectacular view of the yellow sun setting, before the darkness of sleep claimed him into unconsciousness.

When he opened his eyes next, he was greeted with the mild yellow sunlight of the early morning. He blinked several times before his view came into focus. It took him another few seconds to remember exactly where he was. Just as he recalled the incidents of the previous day, a pillar with the Capitol seal emblazoned on it came into the view of the train. That was when sleep left his eyes entirely, as nothing but fear settled in his mind.

He had reached the Capitol.

* * *

“Mahogany. All of it!” Effie proudly said, showing off the finishing of the table in front of her. She had been talking for twenty eight minutes (Kara was counting) straight, describing nearly every fabulous feature of the train. When Kara had first stepped through the sleek doors, she couldn’t stop staring at just how extravagant the room looked. The first thing she had noticed, was how large the room was on the inside. Round lights hung from the ceiling while a thick blue carpet covered every inch of the floor. A large table was placed on one side with savouries stacked neatly in the far corner. Kara had stared at the bowl in the centre which included brightly coloured fruits she had never seen before. Next to the food, a large tray contained numerous crystal bottles with different types of drinks. Around the table, were four chairs, one of which was already occupied by a man Kara had recognized as Henry Allen, their supposed mentor. Closing the door behind them, Effie had asked her and James to ‘make themselves comfortable’, before she had proceeded to sit at the chair next to Allen. A few minutes of silence had caused Effie to awkwardly shift in her seat, as she considered it her responsibility to ensure that her tributes did not feel uncomfortable. That was when she had begun talking, as a means to fill the silence.

And she hadn’t stopped talking since.

Next to her, Kara could sense James growing more tense with every passing minute. She knew he was angry. Frankly, so was she. Kara had spent quite a long time adjusting to the reality on Terra, that included starving families and helpless circumstances. To go from Krypton, where the needs of each and every person were catered to equally, and landing on Earth, it was quite a difficult transition for her. To add to that, she was told that there was simply nothing that could be done to solve that problem.

Here, however, she could see large amounts of food that lay untouched and were meant for just four people. She felt quite enraged, on seeing the luxury that the people of the Capitol enjoyed, while there were deaths in the districts nearly every week due to starvation. But Kara, being her stubborn, Kryptonian self, didn’t allow that anger to take over her, as she had learned in the many years that she had spent on Earth that being angry at circumstances, was similar to being angry at the sun; there was nothing to gain from it, and everything to lose.

Her fellow tribute James Olse, however, did not seem acquainted with this philosophy. She noticed how his eyebrow twitched everytime Effie mentioned an item of luxury, and explained why it was a necessity in the Capitol. While Kara didn’t know James very well, (she had seen him in the photo research department a couple of times on her way to Eve’s) even she could tell that Effie’s detailed description about the light fixture made from old Terran Hawaiian sand was too much to bear for him.

Fortunately, for all of them, Henry Allen, who had been busy writing something in his notebook, till now, suddenly spoke up, interrupting Effie. “You work in photon analysis?”he suddenly asked, his question directed to James, ignoring the look of offence on Effie’s face. When James didn’t answer, Henry pressed on. “I’m asking because I think that can really help with recognizing mirages and identifying traps.” Still receiving no response, he continued, “Also, there’s quite a lot of heavy equipment that you guys carry around for sunlight experimentation. So that means you’re strong too.”

Kara, initially confused, had finally understood what their mentor was trying to do. He was listing the strengths that James possessed and telling him how he could make use of those to survive in the games. James must’ve landed on the same conclusion, as his angered look from before transitioned to a confused one, before giving way to realization. He exhaled sharply, before turning to Henry and giving him an angry look with an intensity that had doubled from before. “What the hell are you trying to do?”, he asked, bitterly. “I’m just trying to helps you”, Henry responded when James all but yelled, “Don’t!”. A few seconds passed in silence, before Henry spoke again, “Look, I know this is difficult, but you have to calm dow-”

“You know?! You have no idea how it feels!”, James interrupted, again, annoyance lacing his voice.

That was when Henry raised his voice a little and responded with an intensity almost matching that of James,, as he said, “I do know how it feels because I went through the same damn thing when I was fourteen.”

The silence after that statement was longer, as James, still a little frustrated from the events of the reaping, refused to back down, while Henry held his gaze. Effie looked somewhat exasperated, while Kara felt helpless. 

After a whole minute passed, Kara decided that she needed to speak up and broke the silence. “This is not getting us anywhere”, she said before turning to James. “If we have any chance of surviving in there, we need to cooperate.” She looked him directly in the eyes, before saying, “Henry is the best chance we have and you know it.”

She didn’t know what it was exactly that caused him to finally calm down; it didn’t matter. She mentally sighed and turned to face Henry, who was eyeing her with a look that she could not decipher. Ignoring it, she said, “You’re right. James works in photo-research.” She knew that calming her fellow tribute down was one thing, but getting him to ask for help, would be much more difficult. Instead, she decided to do it herself. “My mother works in the vegetation department. So I can share all the information I have about food. But I don’t know much about finding shelter, or anything about surviving really”, she said, her voice trembling just a little, as the word ‘survive’ brought back numerous memories that were unwelcome at that moment. Composing herself, she looked Henry directly in the eyes, before asking, “Will you help us?”

Although it was difficult for her to accept her own fate of having to go in the games, (and possibly killing people, but she banished that thought right away) James’s outburst had made her realize just how scared he was. While she knew that there was nothing she could do to make his fear go away, she also knew that she could help him survive. She quickly understood that this was her purpose. It was the look of desperation on his face that had flipped a switch in her mind, and suddenly, she decided that she would not feel helpless anymore.

Henry gave her a sincere nod, but before he could say anything, Effie quickly spoke up, louder than she had intended to, and told the three persons in front of her that it was much too late to start a full blown conversation about strategies. Ignoring the angry looks, she got up to her feet, insisting that Kara and James were much too tired and forced them to go to their rooms in the next compartment. She then asked Henry to do the same, before retreating to her own room for the night. Henry remained in his seat.

He had quietly observed how effectively the female tribute had diffused the situation. He had observed how she was willing to fight. Over the twenty-one years since he had won his games, Henry had always tried his level best to motivate the many kids that had come to him as their final resort. He hated what the Games did to innocent people from his district and yet, had never backed down from doing everything he could to help them survive another day. But in the back of his mind, he knew that the only way one survived inside the arena, was if they were willing to fight. Unfortunately, he had never come across a tribute that was willing to do so.

Until today.

Shutting his notebook, he got up from his seat and made his way to his room in the next compartment. All the while, only one thought filled his mind.

He had a victor this year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter felt slightly rushed to me (the fact that I was rushing to post it on time had nothing to do with it...!) but I hope that it conveys a little more about our characters. Also, Harrison Wells, Caitlyn Raymond and Henry Allen are the mentors, because WHY NOT?!  
Also, also, killer frost!! =D  
Until next time!


	8. Who Help Themselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It made him realize that he could not give up; that he could not break his promise to the woman that had risked her life almost everyday to protect him. He owed it to her, to fight. He owed it to everyone who had sacrificed their lives to save his."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help is on the way!

‘This was it.’

When Kara woke up, the first thing she noticed was the bright daylight falling on her face. She remained still for a couple of seconds, keeping her eyes closed, as she let warm sunlight energize her. She slowly opened her eyes and squinted at the rushing scenery outside. Although they were still passing through greenery, Kara noticed how the trees had drastically reduced in number, giving way to buildings and pillars instead. Belonging to the outskirts of District 12, she had grown used to seeing green around her. From the tall pine trees, to the lush grass below her feet, she had found a sense of comfort in it all. Now, however, she simply watched the grey architecture pass by, not a shred of relief left in her mind. 

Instead, she found herself planning her next move. ‘Thinking like a tribute already’, she thought.

When Kara had decided to help James survive, she had felt a certain sense of contentment. It was, in a way, uplifting for her, as she had made up her mind about helping out the man. She knew the cost of doing so. She knew quite well what saving him would entail. But it didn’t matter to her. She hadn’t quite understood why, until now. 

She realized that the reason that saving James’s life felt natural to her, was because for the first time since she had landed on this horrid planet, she had embraced her Kryptonian values and principles. Instead of trying to strangle the voice in her head, she had listened to what it had to say. Finally, after spending over sixteen years on Earth, she had decided to give in and be the person she was always meant to be. Over the years, the Capitol had completely taken over her every action, and now, they planned on taking away the one thing she had left; hope. They expected her to simply submit to their will and cause the deaths of numerous innocent people. But she realized that it didn’t matter. Because if she was going to die within the next few weeks, the least she could do was die as herself.

With that in mind, she opened the sliding door of her room and made her way to the compartment from the previous night. As she stepped through, she found two of the four seats already occupied by James and Henry. She was surprised (and relieved) to see James focussing on every word that Henry had to say, as their mentor continued to talk about what Kara assumed to be survival tactics. Henry stopped mid-sentence and acknowledged her presence as she quickly sat in her chair and tried to catch up.

“I was just telling James how to find shelter”, Henry explained, as he passed a plate of buttered toast to Kara. It wasn’t until he had done so, that Kara noticed the amount of food that lay in front of her. She observed that the fruit bowl and crystal bottles from the previous night were all gone. Instead, they were replaced with crisp toasts, white and brown eggs, waffles, some fresh looking juices and other breakfast items. She almost couldn’t hide the rumbling in her stomach, as it made her realize that she hadn’t eaten all day yesterday. With that, she all but swiped food onto her plate before quickly relishing the various dishes.

Only after she was done with her third slice, did she focus on the discussion between her mentor and her fellow tribute. “But what happens if you’re in, say a desert or something? Wouldn’t you just die of dehydration right away?” James asked. “That’s where groundwater comes into play.” Henry replied. “Besides”, he continued, “the Capitol likes to see some action. They prefer it when deaths are caused by actual fighting, rather than natural causes. So, chances are, they’ll design the arena accordingly.” It made Kara realize, that at the end of the day, the entire thing was simply a TV show. The Hunger Games were nothing more than a colossal event, solely meant for the entertainment of those who lived in the Capitol. She remembered that, for the next few weeks, the Holo’s all over Panem would be endlessly broadcasting the various happenings of the Games. Right from the numerous events before the actual Games, to the detailed synopsis of each tribute, it would be the only thing that Panem would talk about for the next few weeks, even after everything was over. For the Capitol, this was a pageant, while for those in the districts, it was no less than a death sentence.

“So, let’s assume for now that the environment won’t be that big of a problem. There’s something else I’m more worried about.” Before he continued, Henry pulled out a mini Holo from behind his seat and placed it on the table before turning it on. 

Instantly, footage from the previous day's reaping was displayed in front of them. But it wasn't from 12. Instead, it consisted of clippings from what Kara recognized as Districts 1, 2 and 4. 

“Careers", Henry continued. “The tributes from all other districts are just as untrained as you two, so it's an equal chance for you all. But tributes from 1, 2 and 4 have the advantage of all the training they receive. Their training styles are pretty similar, so they form an alliance in the arena. They're excellent survivors and ruthless killers. They don't die easily." 

Kara looked at both the tributes from District 2. It was easy to label the girl as ruthless, because of the sly smile across her face, but she couldn't say the same about the boy, as he appeared more somber than sinister. She tried to find the maniacal murderer hiding behind his stoic form, but failed. It made her wonder. 

“The bad thing about them, however, is how fanatical they are about winning." Henry said, noticing the grim faces of his tributes. “So much so, that they don't hesitate to kill anyone. Even their own allies. Fortunately for us, that means that all we need to do to defeat them, is stay away.", He paused for emphasis, before continuing, “Let them finish each other off. That's the best strategy I can give you guys to fight the Careers."

The next two hours flew by as Henry continued to explain the various concepts of the Games, while Kara and James listened attentively. He told them the numerous things that had helped him survive, and asked them to watch the Games from previous years to study fighting patterns and gather crucial information that could, ultimately, prove to be life saving. Suddenly, a band of silver dashed by their window, causing Kara to look up. She was surprised to see the complete change of scenery outside, as in contrast to the splotches of green from earlier that morning, all that she saw now were hues of metal. Under different circumstances, she would’ve called the view rather lovely, as it incorporated tall, beautiful, metallic buildings placed symmetrically throughout the land, along with a large lake that reflected the bright blue sky above. In the centre, lay a grand blue palace with ornate pillars that overlooked the entire city.

“We’re here”, said Henry, noticing the dumbstruck looks on his tributes’ faces.

The train finally came to a halt at a bustling station. Men, women and children crammed the platforms as a buzz filled the air. But it wasn’t until they got the first glance of the District 12 tributes, that excitement truly filled everyone’s mind. James looked at the numerous faces that cheered loudly as soon as they saw him. He felt the anger from before creep up on him, as he saw how excited everyone was to see him kill somebody in the arena. He hated all of it; how the Capitol treated the Games the way they did. He gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his anger, succeeding with great difficulty. He tried to remain expressionless, but no matter how hard he tries, he simply could not hold back the hatred that threatened to show on his face. He almost failed, when unexpectedly, he felt Kara grabbing a hold of his arm. “Stay calm”, she whispered, giving him a warning look. She then turned to face the crowd that relentlessly cheered their names and waved at the two of them, and maintained a poised look. Confusion was evident on James’s face as he tried to make sense of the turn of events. After a moment of trying, and failing, to understand her actions, he stared at the crowd instead, feeling the rage inside him dying down a little.

But there was someone in the train compartment, who knew exactly what Kara was trying to do, and it made him feel almost elated. Henry had told his tributes the importance of gaining sponsors. The people of the Capitol, as crazy as they may be, were rich. This meant that they could afford to send some important commodities to the tributes of their choice inside the arena, as sponsored gifts. For that, it was necessary for the citizens to take a liking to the tributes. Henry hadn’t missed how James had almost flinched at the sight of the overly-excited crowd outside, but right as he was about to calm him down, she had stepped in instead. Kara, a tribute that, like any other, would be fighting against James in the arena, had decided to help him in that moment. 

Although he found her course of actions peculiar, Henry couldn’t help but feel a certain pride about the way she had handled the situation.

* * *

Kara could not believe that she was finally left alone. She was sitting on a plush chair in a luxurious room that gave her a panoramic view of the entire city below her, waiting for her so-called designer. The silence around her, allowed her to recall the events of the past few hours, causing her to feel utterly exhausted.

As soon as Effie had led them out of the train and into one of the official looking buildings of the Capitol, Kara and James were introduced to their team of stylists. Immediately after, they were dragged in opposite directions towards, what Kara could only assume was, their mandatory health-testing area. Her right arm quickly reached over to her left sleeve as she pierced her index finger with the green tip of her hope-pin. She instantly felt the effects of the kryptonite, as she felt her body grow weaker with every step, to the point where it became difficult to even see properly. She gathered herself right before she reached the doors of the check-up area. Once inside, she tried her best to look around and take note of the various instruments placed all across the room. She gaped at the numerous wires that ran across the machines in front of her, as she was made to sit on a small bed. Rough hands grabbed her by her shoulders while a needle pierced her left arm. Fear began to cloud her vision, as she suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She looked around and tried to suppress her anxiety, but failed to do so, as masked faces were huddled all around her. Instantly, her mind reminded her of Kall; the alien who was tortured by the people of the Capitol. She tried to move, but found that her hands were stuck. She tried to use all of her strength, but failed as she quickly realized that she was human now. Failing to do anything else, she closed her eyes tightly, dreading for the torture to begin.

Except, it didn’t. 

A few seconds passed before she opened her eyes and saw that all the masked faces had disappeared. Instead, she came face-to-face with the prep-team that she had met at the entrance of the building. Instead of cold and evil looks, they smiled warmly at her, and quickly began working. Two whole hours passed by, as Kara’s nails were filed, her hair was brushed and her skin was moisturized. Her eyebrows were shaped immaculately while her eyelashes were plucked so that they appeared uniformly set. Kara had tried to ask what was going on, but had received only vague answers. In the end, all she could gather, was that her team of stylists was ‘cleaning her up’ before she could meet with her designer.

“Oh, she looks flawless!”, one of her stylists exclaimed dramatically. Once they were satisfied with their work, they ushered Kara into a room situated at the far end of the corridor, before leaving her completely alone, with no explanation. That was the last she had seen of them. Not knowing what else to do, she had made her way to a chair near the window, before sitting in it, still feeling weak due to the kryptonite in her system. A few more minutes had passed by, before she felt her super-hearing beginning to come back to her, followed quickly by her other heightened senses. After that she had simply waited for whatever was to happen next, and had been waiting ever since.

Instantly, she heard footsteps approaching her room, and turned, just in time to look at the woman that had entered through the doors.

"You must be Kara", she said, walking briskly towards her, before occupying the chair in front of her. Unlike the people she had met earlier, this woman did not have a smile on her face. Instead, she had a professional appearance. Kara noticed how her eyes deceived her otherwise unemotional form, as they carried an almost rueful look. 

“My name's Lena, and before we begin, I'd like to apologize on behalf of the entire Capitol" she paused, observing the surprised look on Kara's face, before continuing, “I'm sorry that you have to go through this." Kara observed how Lena’s expressions remained completely grim, indicating the genuineness behind her words. “You don’t think winning the Games gives us glory?” Kara responded, sarcasm evident in her voice. “I don’t think there’s glory in killing people for the fun of it”, Lena countered. “The Games produce survivors, nothing more", she continued, grimly. The statement made Kara realize how, of all the citizens of the Capitol she had met so far, Lena seemed to be different. In contrast to the over-excited members of her team of stylists and Effie, Lena seemed almost sorry for having to be a part of the Games. It somewhat improved Kara’s opinion about the people of the Capitol, slightly.

“And it is my job to help a survivor in any way I can”, Lena finished. Kara felt slightly at ease, as the doubt in her eyes transformed into curiosity. Noticing this change, Lena continued, “I’m sure Henry must’ve told you about gaining sponsors?” Kara nodded, prompting Lena to go on. “, This evening, in the Tribute Parade, the entire Capitol is going to see you for the first time since the Reaping” she said, “So I want to show you off to all of Panem in the best possible way”

“You’re here to make me look pretty then?”, Kara asked mockingly, realizing a little late how she couldn’t afford for her designer to take offence. Instead, Lena remained unphased, as she said, “I’m here to help you make an impression.” A small smile made its way across Kara’s face.

“Now, usually, our dress themes are based on the essence of the district. We have quite an advantage, considering how yours is the Science district of Panem.” At the mention of science, Kara tensed up a little. Over the years, she had seen numerous tribute parades, and almost every year, designers for 12 had found exceptional ways to mess up entirely, the image of their tributes, by incorporating unnecessarily dangerous experiments in their motifs. She remembered one particular year, where the tributes were dressed entirely in a brown, plastic, trash bag like material while their heads were painted red to denote a working volcano. What was worse, was how the entire get-up was live, as an orange liquid kept flowing from the tributes’ hair. It was one of the cringiest spectacles Kara had ever seen.

“So, I want to focus on some crazy experiments telling everyone that you’re brave and fearless”, Lena’s words worsened Kara’s fear, to the point that she was dreading what Lena had to say next. “Something that’s bold and makes a statement”, ‘Yup’, Kara thought to herself, ‘She was going to be a volcano’. 

“I wanna play with magnets”

It took a second for her to understand, as dread gave way to a small amount of relief, which quickly turned into confusion. “Play with magnets?” she asked, to which Lena simply nodded. Without offering any more explanation, she continued, “Also, I read your health reports. It seems you’re a little weaker than average, so I want you to appear as strong as possible in the parade.” As Kara realized that earlier, she may have pierced herself with kryptonite a little harder than she had meant to, Lena uttered her final thoughts, “That’s why, this year, I’m planning on making you a superhero.”

* * *

Thea Queen was bubbling with nervousness and excitement. She had been waiting for this opportunity for quite a long time. As she briskly walked through the long corridor of the Tribute centre building, towards the room at the far corner, she beamed at every passer-by, as she simply could not contain herself. 

She paused for a minute, taking in a deep breath to regain her composure, before she burst through the doors crying, “Hi!”, a little louder than she had meant, startling the man inside. She quickly apologized before greeting him yet again, properly this time, as she introduced herself. “My name’s Thea Queen”, she said, “and I am going to be your designer” After a brief handshake, she continued to speak in a speedy way, “Now I know what you must be thinking. Being the designer for District 2, most of my work’s already done for me. That I probably have the easiest job in all of Panem, but that’s not true, okay?!”, she finished with an abrupt intensity. “I mean, yes you guys are usually really good looking, not to mention that 2 wins almost every year. And then there’s also the fact that most sponsors love you already, but it’s still difficult to design for you guys!”, she said, as she paced, talking more to herself than to Mon El. She suddenly turned to face him, before rambling on, “If you look at all the Parades over the years, you’ll observe that bad motifs almost always work against the tribute. You need to be bold, yet not so much that everyone’s just laughing at you. You need to appear strong, but not as much to show that you don’t need the sponsor’s help. And not just that, you have to ensure that your designs don’t repeat, because do you have any idea how bad that looks?!”

To say that Mon El was utterly speechless, was an understatement.

He stared quietly at the strange girl in front of him, as she exhaled slowly, before a look of pure embarrassment adorned her face. She realized how she had been babbling away to the man in front of her, and it caused her to cover her face with her hands. “I am so sorry”, she said, in a slightly sedate tone compared to before. “I just- I’m really nervous.” She paused before saying, “Of course this is much worse for you, isn’t it. I mean you’ll be fighting in the Games in a week, you- I’m just really sorry.” She stopped, yet again, before coming up with an idea, “Can we just start over?” Not unlike before, Mon El remained silent, which, she accepted as affirmation, before she gave him a warm smile instead of an intense one, and said. “My name’s Thea Queen. I’m your designer. I want you to know that I consider my job very important, because the designs that I create for you will help in gaining sponsors and ultimately deciding your fate in the arena. It’s horrible that you have to fight your way out of this and I really wish there was something else I could’ve done to save you, but I can’t. So, instead, I’m gonna do everything I can to help you win, in my own way”, she finished with a deep sigh, extending her arm for a handshake.

Mon El simply continued to stare. 

When Thea had entered the room, the first thing that Mon El had noticed about her was that she appeared younger than him. He had expected his designer to be someone old enough to sport grey hair of experience. Instead, he had been startled by a young brunette who, as it appeared, had a zeal for talking. After that, he hadn’t missed her nervousness, no matter how hard she had tried to hide it. The bright smile, the fast pacing and the non-stop talking had all indicated to just how anxious she had been about this meeting.

At first, he had thought her to be just another loon from the Capitol, excited for getting the opportunity of being an official designer in the Games. But after she had introduced herself the second time, her nervousness had died down a little, and Mon El had been able to see her for who she actually was. After observing her regretful features when she spoke of the Games as not a celebration, but a sorrowful and unfair event, he had understood that she was a kind and generous person. While it was true that Mon El had known her for mere minutes, there seemed to be something about her that had made him decide against doubting her sincerity. Deciding to ponder over it later, he accepted her hand and gave it a firm shake, before speaking for the very first time in hours.

“My name’s Mon El”

Thea smiled, gratefully, as Mon El gave her a small smile as well. They made their way across the room to sit near the large window, before Thea quickly began explaining her plans for the Tribute Parade in the evening. They talked for almost half an hour, before Thea finally left the room, leaving Mon El alone again. He stared at the city outside when all of a sudden, realization hit him. He felt as though someone had splashed cold water on his face, as he realized that the reason that he felt like he could trust Thea so easily, was because her mannerisms reminded him of someone. From her nervous blabber, to her warm smile, they reminded him of a much younger girl, whose smile he had seen just yesterday.

She reminded him of Maya.

He stilled, as memories of his sister flooded his mind. A smile found its way on his face, as he remembered how nervous Maya had been when they had been to the forest for the very first time. How she had refused to jump down the falls, but after realizing that Mon El could fly, had instead refused to leave. He found himself reminiscing about the good old times for a while, before reality cut his daydream short, as he was suddenly reminded of his last moment with his sister. The memory of her crying brought back the pain inside him, with a much larger intensity.

He was beginning to slip into a state of helplessness, yet again, when all of a sudden, he remembered the promise that he had made to Rhea. ‘Promise me, that you’ll survive the Games’ she had said. And he had promised her the very same, with all his heart. It made him realize that he could not give up; that he could not break his promise to the woman that had risked her life almost everyday to protect him. He owed it to her, to fight. He owed it to everyone who had sacrificed their lives to save his.

He thought of Var Eth and Daxam, and at that moment, the pain inside him turned into determination. For the first time since the reaping, he let himself feel the true intensity of his emotions. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of resolution. When he opened his eyes, he felt warm sunlight, entering the room from the window in front of him, falling on his face. The energy that the sun’s radiation gave him only strengthened his resolve, as he thought to himself,

‘This is it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three Things:-  
1\. Lena is her name, while her last name won't be revealed for some time now for reasons yet to be revealed.... (hehe!)  
2\. I don't watch Arrow, so I'm basing Thea on that one scene where she says, "I didn't know we know the Flash". Also, this is kinda my interpretation of the nickname Speedy!  
3\. Kara and Mon El have officially found their purposes now. It should be interesting to see how that drives them to fight further along the story.  
Oh and also, you might wanna listen to the Chariot scene music from the Hunger Games for the next chapter because, OBVIOUS REASONS!  
Until Next Time!


	9. What they Appear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "From the air, both tributes waved enthusiastically at their audience, earning a volume that paralleled the roar that tributes from 2 had received."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Caesar Flickerman's voice*: Oh My My My Wooh! This is an Interesting chapter!

‘Curious’

That was how Mon El described the District 2 designer, as he watched her frantically rushing across the room. Even though Thea was a few years younger than him, she carried herself with enough authority to dictate her team around, in order to obtain the necessary results. In the last hour, she had displayed numerous emotions ranging from humility when requesting for something, to outrageous fury upon not getting said request fulfilled. It was clear to anyone observing her, that her age and relative inexperience were not to be considered a factor to her designing prowess. She looked like a determined woman on a mission; there was no stopping her. Her eyes contained a fire which plainly reflected the passion she had for her work. Although it unnerved him (even scared him) a bit, it also assured Mon El about his assessment of the designer. If he wanted to get through the Games, he needed Thea Queen on his team.

About an hour after his meeting with Thea, he had been escorted to a bigger, fancier room, which unlike the previous one, was not empty. Instead, as he entered through the doors, he found himself in the company of the four people that had been with him on the train ride to the Capitol. They were all sitting at the glass dining table at the far corner of the room, waiting for him, as it seemed. Harrison Wells and Caitlin Raymond sat on one side, while his fellow tribute Samantha Arias sat on the other, next to an empty seat, which Mon El quickly occupied. Don Silvester, who sat at the head of the table, next to Wells, signalled to the many servants standing by, and wordlessly, they began serving out numerous lunch delicacies.

A stark difference could be seen across the table, as on one side, Mon El and Sam gobbled up everything on their plates, appearing almost afraid that if the food was left untouched for more than a few minutes, it would disappear, while on the other end, their mentors and presenter ate at a much more sedate pace, as though taking time to relish the taste of every morsel. Throughout the meal, they discussed Game strategies, as Wells and Caitlin took turns to explain to their tributes the importance of the Tribute Parade, that was to take place in under five hours. The ceremony required all the tributes to ride in horse-led chariots, starting from the courtyard of the building that they were in, all the way to the grounds of the official training centre of the Capitol. Along the path, almost every citizen of the Capitol would be present in the spectator area, cheering on for the tributes that they liked best. Caitlin explained that since this would be the first time that people saw each tribute since the reaping, the audience would be over-excited. So, to ensure that they were remembered the best by the end of the ceremony, especially by sponsors, they had to stand out in the finest way possible.

As if on cue, Thea entered the room with her small team, carrying unfinished costumes and bits of fabric. She ignored the five pairs of eyes looking at her, and continued to work meticulously on the ensemble for the tributes. The next hour consisted mainly on deciding the style in which Mon El and Sam were to present themselves. The mentors from 2 had quickly realized that their tributes this year, radiated confidence. Therefore, they had to present themselves accordingly, facing their audience fearlessly. Wells gave them some pointers on gestures and expressions. The end of an hour was marked by Thea’s announcement that the costumes were finally ready. She wheeled in the veiled wardrobe as everyone gathered in the common area of the room. 

As Thea revealed the costumes (a little dramatically), she quickly explained her concept, not noticing the curious looks on everyone’s faces. “Fighters”, she said, “That’s how I see the two of you. You’re strong, powerful and you both volunteered. So, that’s what I wanna focus on. I want people to see that not only are you capable of winning, but also, that you deserve to be victors”, she ended with a nervous sigh. It didn’t help matters, when she found her audience confused, instead of fascinated as she had hoped, but quickly realized the reason. The costumes, in themselves, looked quite ordinary. Without wasting a second, she thrust the suits to both tributes and asked them to change, and a minute later, both of them returned to the room wearing simple, black, body-fit tracksuits. She positioned them next to each other, before placing a sleek shoulder plate on their right shoulders. As soon as the plate was attached, Thea smiled with satisfaction as she saw the astonished faces of Don, Caitlin and Wells.

Mon El looked down at his arms and almost flinched at what he saw. A metallic fabric materialized from the plate and extended diagonally, all the way down to his left waist, forming a sash. It felt like tiny bots were spreading a fluid-like metal across his chest. A similar fabric extended vertically from both sides of the sash and steadily covered his entire body from neck-down in a flexible suit of kevlar-like metallic cloth. The black sleeves of the tracksuit were amalgamated with streaks of purple, while symmetric, dark purple bands ran from his chest, all the way down to his feet. He looked up to see wide eyes full of awe staring at his armour. Besides him, Sam was in a similar state of shock, as she too was busy ogling her own outfit. Thea asked the two of them to look at themselves in the mirror, and when he did, Mon El could finally understand why his audience had been speechless. Looking at his reflection, he found himself captivated by the entirety of his suit. From how it appeared, the suit should have been heavy, as the material resembled a mixture of denim and leather. Instead, it felt light enough to not feel overbearing in any sense. Twisting his arms, he found that the material, whatever it was, gave the outfit a well balanced flexibility, as it didn't hinder movement, but also made its presence felt, in the form of a protective covering all across his body. 

“Nanotech", Thea's voice brought everyone out of the trance that they had entered, owing to the amazing outfits. “I used nanotech along with a super polymer for the fabric. Patent pending." She said, proudly. “I know that the costume is meant only for show, but it is tactical in every sense. Burn-proof, bullet-proof, hydrophobic and get this. If, by any chance, there's a tear, it repairs itself automatically. That my friends is the beauty of nanomaterial. And since 2 is known for its technology, I though this way you two could fully showcase the essence of your District"

Thea enjoyed the looks of awe for a few minutes, as she saw the people in front of her all but mesmerized by her work. She felt a smile working its way across her face as the nervousness from before faded to give way to delight instead. After an extended minute marked by lack of words, it was Wells who broke the silence, as he turned to the designer and simply said, “I wish you were my designer for the Games!" 

After that, everyone quickly got back to work, as Thea rushed downstairs to make the final arrangements for the chariot, while Sam and Mon El were made to rehearse in their outfits. It was a long hour of smiling exercises and hand gesture practice later, when the prep team finally pulled them away (to the relief of the bored tributes) for hair and makeup (their relief was short-lived).

* * *

Surprisingly, Kara had spent no more than forty minutes in the prep room, most of which was devoted to her hair, while only fifteen minutes were spent for makeup. After seeing Effie and most of the people here, she had thought that only form of makeup that the Capitol understood, was face-paint. When she had first been taken by the prep team to get her hair and makeup done, she had expected no less than a plastic surgery, where after about two hours, she would exit the room with a white face and shocking pink hair. After all, that had been Effie’s look two years ago. To her relief, however, she found her prep team being as gentle as ever, working on her face with nothing more than foundation, eye-shadows and eye-liners, and modifying her natural features as little as possible. 

When she was done, she stared at her face in the mirror, almost not recognizing it with the lack of dirt and sweat. The face looked like hers, but it didn’t belong to someone from District 12. Instead, it looked foreign. It appeared flawless, resembling the porcelain appearance of those who had almost never worked for anything in their lives. She looked like she would fit in, completely, with people who had never known hunger or pain or suffering. Her hair, though it took longer to set, was left loose. Her blonde curls, it seemed, were quite fashionable in themselves, as she was told by Markus on her prep team. So instead of giving her a wacky hairstyle, like creating a helicopter from her curls (Shayna Nicoles, 68th Hunger Games), it was left naturally wavy and draped over her shoulders and back. Finally, once she exited the room, she was instantly greeted by Lena, who complimented her team on their work, before guiding Kara towards her costume. 

The elegance of the suit wasn’t what caught her attention, first. The outfit that was displayed on a mannequin in front of her, consisted of a dress that was coloured in blue, yellow and red, giving it the appearance of a blue top, yellow belt and a red skirt. Below this, were knee-length, red boots, while there extended a red coloured cape from the shoulders, that reached down her back, all the way to her calves. Overall, the suit looked, graceful and gave a dignified aura. It screamed superhero, in the sense that it looked more like a uniform, that could be worn only if you swore to deliver justice to all, than a simple costume. Closer inspection even told Kara that the material looked almost like kevlar, or a similar polymer that could make the suit durable and made the person who wore it, invulnerable. It truly was magnificent how Lena’s clever use of fabric and radiant colours had brought out the beauty of the entire get-up. Although the overall look was plain and simple, in no way dazzling or flashy, Kara found it difficult to take her eyes off of the visual that the suit alone created in itself.

But there was something else that she couldn’t stop staring at, from the moment she laid eyes on it. A large ‘S’ was emblazoned on the blue portion of the dress. But it wasn't in ordinary font. Instead, it was written in a peculiar way, with a diamond shaped border around it. Kara’s hand instinctively touched her pin of hope, as she kept staring at the symbol on the dress. As if she had read her mind, Lena spoke up, explaining the costume, “The ‘S’ was inspired from your pin. I was only going to write ‘12’ but this looked better”, she said, pointing to the symbol. “And besides, it helped me with your superhero name”, she said with a sparkle in her eyes as her lips curled into a smile.

A few minutes later, when Kara stood in front of her team of stylists wearing her super-suit, she was met with the dramatic gasps of her overjoyed team, who, though speechless for the first few moments, were all non-stop praises for no less than five minutes straight. Even Kara had to admit that she looked good. Seeing herself in a suit that had Kryptonian written on it (even though nobody knew its significance), made her feel weirdly at peace, which, given her situation was something she desperately had to hang on to throughout her time in the Hunger Games. Another set of theatrical gasps from her team, caused her to turn around, as she saw James and Henry walking towards them. The first thing that she noticed about James’s outfit was how tactical it looked. Instead of cloth, like her outfit, his suit was mostly metal, resembling an old Terran suit of armour, but much more sleek. It was stylish and elegant, with red and blue stripes running all across his body. Another major difference that she noticed, was the lack of a cape and the absence of the symbol that her suit contained. Instead he carried a red shield in his left arm. Lena quickly supplied the answers to the questions in her mind, “The pin was your thing, the shield was his.” That was when she remembered the shield-shaped ring on his right hand, his personal effect. Kara also noticed how his face appeared much different from before. She could tell from his clean shaven chin and highlighted eyes, that a lot of time and effort was spent on making him appear less hostile.

When Lena had been busy designing their costumes, James and Kara had been lectured by Howard and Effie on the way in which they had to present themselves in front of the audience. Lena had told them that she was going to make Kara look strong, so she had to face people with a fearless smile. James however, had to take it down a notch, in terms of his bitterness towards the Capitol. He had to smile and wave at the audience, telling them that he was taking the Games like a good sport (even if it may not be the case in reality). Thus about half an hour was dedicated to teaching James to control his anger and simply smile. The results had not been ideal.

“You look good”, Kara said with a smile, in order to wipe his grim expressions, which coupled with his friendly makeup, made him look like an unnaturally happy statue. He smiled, like he had practiced and returned the compliment. Before they could continue their conversation, however, the sound of a large bell reverberated across the crowded basement where they were standing. This was quickly followed by Henry and Lena ushering them towards their chariot. Effie, it seemed, had already made her way towards the stands, hoping to advertise her tributes before the event began. Henry helped them both stand on top of the large block that took up most of the space of the chariot. “Now remember”, Lena said, “Big smiles, wave at the crowd and don’t look down”

On any other occasion, ‘don’t look down’ would be considered as a suggestion given to someone so that they appeared brave. In this case, however, Kara knew it had nothing to do with them appearing confident.

* * *

“Over one hundred thousand people have already gathered in the stands, craning to get a glimpse of this year’s tributes”, Caesar Flickerman’s voice boomed across the Holo’s all over Panem. He had a knack for entertaining, as he had been hosting the numerous events of the Hunger Games for the past twenty five years. His announcements were always descriptive, and told the viewers exactly what they were to expect in the moments to follow. Although his captivating voice and lively personality on the screens did little to stop the families in the districts from attempting to smash the unbreakable Holo’s at their homes, there was only so much he could do. 

The glass cabin that he shared with his co-host, Claudius Templesmith, overlooked all the festivities of the games, giving them an unparalleled view of the Parade. Everything was timed and well coordinated. The game-makers truly had the art of proper planning and seamless execution. The excitement of the crowd could be felt from a mile away, as everyone anticipated the arrival of the first chariot that would mark the beginning of the ceremony. The stands were packed with people, as ordinary spectators filled the far ends, while wealthier sponsors occupied the front rows. Presenters and mentors of various districts mingled with the crowd, mostly with the sponsors, talking up their tributes. Suddenly, the loud sounds of the audience were drowned out entirely by even louder trumpets, that bellowed the melody of the ‘Horn of Plenty’. Immediately, heads turned in apprehension, as a silence dawned on the spectator area, and people collectively held their breath, waiting for the first chariot to arrive.

When it did, the screams gave Mon El a headache so strong, that he knew it would last the entire night. 

“And there it is!” Caesar said enthusiastically, “The chariots have arrived. And what better way to begin than to have that as your first chariot. Oh my! That looks lovely” he said, as he described the District 1 motif. It was painted stark white while the tributes were dressed in a similar colour, with the Staff of Hermes printed on their tunics. The entire motif portrayed peace and tranquillity. “As you can clearly see, those two are dressed as angels in heaven reflecting life-saving doctors, which, I think we can all agree, there cannot be a better way to portray the Medical district of Panem.” Caesar continued.

The loud cheers of the audience were pretty much routine for Caesar, at this point, so he was not surprised as a few audience members even threw roses at the District 1 chariot. It was the sheer uproar of the people behind that pulled his attention to the second chariot. What he saw left even an experienced host like him breathless.

“Oh my gosh! Look at that!” he voiced with surprise and astonishment, as he noticed the modifications that were occuring in the costumes of the tributes from District 2. The tributes had nodded to each other, before curling the fingers on their left hand into a fist. As soon as they had done so, their mundane looking tracksuit transformed right in front of their spectators into a magnificent metallic suit, coloured in black and purple. “It’s like-it’s like the suit is materializing and spreading like a fluid!” Caesar could barely contain himself as he ogled at the view. The audience was in a similar state of amazement, as they stared at the beautiful transformation and cheered at the top of their lungs, so much so, that even the loud trumpets could no longer be heard. Just when Caesar had thought he had heard the loudest cheers of his career, the District 2 tributes pulled up the final trick that they had up their sleeve, as both of them, in rehearsed coordination, raised their right arm, fists closed in a victorious fashion. As they did so, the purple hues on their costume, glowed, highlighting the stylishly written ‘2’ on their outfits as well as their chariot. The overall visual, along with the outburst of the audience caused Caesar to stand up from his seat and applaud. Besides him, Claudius took over the mic and eagerly described his own excitement. 

The chariots that followed couldn’t quite live up to the bar that District 2 had set. While the cheers were certainly loud, the trumpets still overpowered all the noise, indicating that the cheers were simply not loud enough. One by one, chariots belonging to the Districts of Fisheries (3), Transportation (6), Weapons (7), and Agriculture (11). “And here you can see two farmers from 11. That’s so adorable”, Claudius remarked as the District 11 chariot went by. “And next up is- Oh my wha-”, he couldn’t finish, as the final motif robbed him of his speech.

Until that moment, the District 12 tributes had simply been standing on a slightly raised platform in their chariot. But as they reached the view of people, no one could believe what they saw in front of them. 

The tributes slowly and steadily levitated from their platforms. 

The male tribute showcased power with his appearance as he carried an impervious shield in his left arm, while a bright smile adorned his face. Although his presence was quite impressive, it was the female tribute, in Caesar’s opinion, who stole the show. There was a certain grace with which she carried herself. Her costume only added to her overall beauty, as the red cape flowed neatly behind her. Her flawless form felt natural; as though flying were something that came naturally to her. From the air, both tributes waved enthusiastically at their audience, earning a volume that paralleled the roar that tributes from 2 had received. Finally, as the last chariot reached the concluding circle, the male tribute landed, a little shakily, while the girl descended smoothly. With that, President Snow took over the large podium of the training centre. Even then, it took two complete minutes to subdue the wild crowd.

* * *

Rubbing his forehead, Mon El excused himself from the dining area and walked outside to the balcony of their floor. For the longest time, he had yearned for absolute silence; the kind that he had within the training rooms of 2. He had considered using the spot of lead on his necklace to become human for a while. But after having spent the entire morning feeling weaker than usual as a human, he refused the idea, especially considering how exhausted he felt at the moment. He massaged his forehead as he tried to zero down on the sound of his own heartbeat. It was a trick that he had learned to control his superhuman abilities. When it did nothing to lessen his headache, he turned to the only piece of comfort that he had. 

He clutched the charming, green crystal, careful not to touch the part that was laced with lead. It calmed his nerves a little, as he felt the rock in his palm which reminded him of his family. He closed his eyes and the familiar faces of his family engraved in his mind. When he opened his eyes, he saw his own reflection in the glass railing in front of him. He almost didn’t recognize the face staring back at him. His eyes were highlighted with makeup, while his hair was styled with specks of purple. The only thing familiar about his face, was the pain in his eyes. He quickly looked up before a tear could spill from them. 

Although he had decided to fight, he had to figure out how to return from the Games without letting go of his principles. Because throughout his time on this forsaken planet, his principles had been his constant companion. They were what would prevent him from even considering hurting an innocent being. He simply couldn’t. Not after all the people that had lost their lives in order for him to live. Sure, if someone attacked him, he would fight back. But apart from that, he had no idea how he was to survive till the end. 

Above him, he saw the sky adorned with stars. The sky had been yet another companion of his. He didn’t remember when it had begun, but ever since he could remember, looking at the stars had made him feel comfortable. Perhaps it reminded him of how he wasn’t really alone. How the sky had been where he had come from, sixteen years ago, on Terra. He stared at the constellation above him for some time, before finally deciding to retire for the day.

That was when he saw her. She was standing on the balcony of the top floor of the building. Like him, she too was leaning against the railing of the balcony. She too had tears in her eyes. But instead of looking at the fascinating stars, she was staring at him. His enhanced vision, further told him that she was actually staring at the green pendant in his hand. He furrowed his brows in confusion. 

When he had seen her first in the Parade, he had wondered about the female tribute from 12. When he had seen her fly, a blurry memory had flashed in his mind. He had tried hard to remember clearly what it was, but even now, could not quite recall. What was even more strange was the peculiar symbol on her outfit. To all of Panem, it was merely an ‘S’ that represented the ‘Science District'. But to him, it was a symbol in Kryptonian, a language he had learned many moons ago.

Noticing how she was still staring, he instinctively tucked the necklace inside his shirt. As though she realized that she had been caught, she quickly looked away. Before he went inside, he saw her one last time, and surprisingly enough, found her staring right back, only now, she was looking him straight in the eyes. He held her gaze for a few seconds, before turning to go back inside.

As he closed the door behind him, all he could think of, was how puzzling it all was. How mystifying the girl from 12 was. 

‘Curious’, he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they finally saw each other!! The wait is over. Next stop, KaraMel! (well, not exactly)  
Two things:  
1\. Slight change with Caitlin's last name. It is Raymond, not Snow, as she is in no way related to President Snow!  
2\. I've changed the District occupations. So yeah!  
Until Next Time!


	10. Tales of the bygones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The numerous things swirling in her mind had to be dealt with, properly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IAmSoSORRYForTheDelayButHereIsTheChapter!

There was a lot to be done.

Samantha Arias had never liked sleeping in till late. Even as a child, she had been an early riser. She attributed this habit of hers to her affinity to seeing the twilight sky. There was something about the way that hues of pink and purple washed over the sky that made her relish the view just before sunrise. It was luminous, but not too bright. It was soft, yet mesmerizing. For most people, sunrise marked the beginning of the day, but for Sam, the day  _ dawned _ much earlier.

Looking up, she noticed the view of the Capitol in front of her. It was similar to the view from her own room back home, with the only difference being that instead of a lush, green forest in the distance, she saw nothing but a concrete jungle that stretched on for as far as her eyes could see. The soft, rosy sky coupled with the elegant metallic buildings of the Capitol created a view so picturesque, it almost seemed like a painting; a masterpiece. It made Sam think about how she didn’t mind waking up to it every morning until the Games.

And mornings after, too.

But today, the allure of the heavens was not what had caused her to wake up earlier than usual. Instead, it was the anticipation of everything that was to follow in the hours to come. Today, the tributes of the 74th Hunger Games began their week-long training. For most participants, especially the younger ones, or those from the outline districts, who had never even held a knife in their lives, this week was a much-needed prep-period. It provided them with an opportunity to learn numerous life-saving skills like combat styles and survival techniques that they would use inside the arena.

If they got through their first day, alive.

But for the Careers from Districts 1, 2 and 4, this week was meant for something else entirely. Unlike others, they didn’t need instructors to teach them how to properly shoot an arrow, or how to start a fire with a piece of paper and some dry grass. Because unlike others, the careers had stepped into the Games well prepared. They had been taught various skills back in their home-districts before they stepped up to the task of volunteering for the Games. So to use this precious week simply to sharpen their already sharpened battle skills, would be an utter waste of time. 

Which was why, the Careers made use of this time to make allies instead.

It was a well-known fact, that Careers always made alliances in the arena. Their similar training and congruent want of victory made them quite compatible with one another. As a result, instead of clearing off the competition right away, Careers preferred to help each other get rid of tributes from other Districts, before breaking off the alliance. It worked well, in the sense, that it allowed them to not only kill more efficiently, but also showcase the true nature of their fighting skills. As a result, most of the victors that had been produced by the Hunger Games, were Careers. 

During the Tribute Parade, Sam had already observed her soon-to-be allies. But it was difficult to judge them on the basis of their well-rehearsed appearance. Today, she would get a proper insight about what she was working with. Today, she would get a better idea about their strengths and weaknesses, which would help her control the turn of events inside the arena. The information that she collected today would also help her decide the order of death that would result in the most efficient victory.

Her combat-coach and mentor Selina had taught her about the concept of order of death. It was based on the idea that the death of an ally didn’t matter as much as the order in which they were killed. If, for example, a smart ally were killed before a strong-headed one, it would negatively affect the alliance, as it would cause the strong-headed fellow to turn against the team, thereby weakening the already dwindling trust between the team-members. It was therefore very important to consider the order in which the allies were killed, to ensure a clean and effective victory. 

Easily angered tributes were always the first ones to die, while the intelligent and quiet ones were the most difficult to kill. Hence, it was logical to kill off the weak links with the help and trust of the strong ones, before ultimately turning on them. Those who were very straightforward with their approach almost always ended up dead within the second week. They lacked the patience required to ensure a win. Their inability to keep their motives well hidden, negatively reflected on everyone, which was why they were killed off first. 

Based on that logic, Sam knew that Mon El, her fellow tribute, would make it to the very end.

She had been curious when he had volunteered and impressed by his similar test scores, when she had learned, on the train ride to the Capitol, that he was a level 9 fighter. The mysterious way in which he carried himself, only added to her curiosity as he maintained a stoic appearance throughout, not giving away, for even a second, what was on his mind. However, after seeing how deceptive he could be in the Tribute Parade, as he managed to convince the audience of the Capitol that he was just as enthusiastic about the Games as they were, she knew one thing for sure; he was a threat, and certainly not to be taken lightly.

The beeping of the alarm broke her from her thoughts, as she quickly got out of her bed, brushed her teeth and made her way out into the common area.

After the Chariot ceremony the previous night, the tributes had been taken inside the twelve-story Capitol training centre where they would live till they entered the arena. A floor had been given to the teams of each District, starting from District 1 on the first floor, to 12 on the topmost one. When the elevator doors opened, revealing the luxuriously furnished floor of District 2, both Sam and Mon El had taken a few moments to stare at the sheer richness of the place. Lavish furniture was placed all across the giant, carpeted common area, while corridors on either side led to more rooms. As beautiful as it had seemed last night, Sam couldn’t help but stare how much more lovely the room looked now, showered in the pink glow of twilight. As she took in the view, her eyes wandered across the living room.

That was when she spotted him.

Her fellow tribute was sitting by the large window, staring at the Capitol below him. He seemed to be lost in thought as she made her way over to occupy the seat beside him. 

“Couldn't sleep?" she asked. A quick glance was the only acknowledgement that he gave her, so she continued. 

“Oh c'mon!" Sam exclaimed, exasperatedly. “You can stop that now. No one's here to see your mysterious, brooding personality.” 

He remained impassive. 

“Well, at least talk to me" Sam tried yet again, only this time, she did receive a response, as he simply got up and began walking away. He had taken just a few steps towards the direction of his room, when suddenly, Sam picked up the sharp crystal display resting on the table and swung her arm to hit him with it on his shoulder. She was stopped at the last second, as Mon El spun around and caught her arm, mid swing, as an incredulous look adorned his face. 

“What the hell?!" he asked, angrily. 

“Oh good. So you're responsive after all” Sam replied, mockingly, but in a calm manner. 

After a second, he let go of her arm, and watched her, as she cooly placed the crystal back in its place, before staring at him, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. 

“What do you want?" Mon El asked, a little irritatedly. 

“A deal” Sam quickly replied. “I wanna form an alliance with you.”

Mon El stared at her, mutely for a couple of seconds. Confusion was evident on his face, as he considered her cryptic words. He knew that Sam was a cunning fighter, her academy scores could vouch for that. She was a thinker, a planner. She would approach the Games strategically, of that he was sure. Moreover, she would never state something as obvious as forming an alliance unless there was more to it.

“We’re Careers” he said. “Everyone knows we’ll be forming an alliance in the arena. What’s there to talk about” he said appearing dismissive, but secretly, curious to know what she had in mind.

She smiled, before patiently replying, “That’s true, we will be forming alliances with 1 and 4, but I’m talking about just the two of us. I wanna form a secret alliance with you. One that ensures that we don’t attack each other till the very end.” He remained quiet, so she continued. “In the beginning, we’ll just be normal Careers. When it’s down to six, maybe seven tributes, that’s usually when the Career alliance breaks. That’s when we team up and strike the others down. Then, we can fight to the death.”

Mon El was quite amazed at how she had managed to put things as simply as possible. While she wanted him to consider an alliance, she also wanted him to be assured that she wouldn’t hesitate in killing him if need be. It made him realize that on the one hand, she considered him a threat, but on the other, this was the only option he had. Because if he were to decline this offer of hers, her first move in the arena, the logical move, would be to simply  _ eliminate the threat. _

She observed how he kept his face completely neutral as he considered her offer. She could tell that he didn’t like being put in such a situation; she had expected it. “Look, it’s fairly obvious you don’t want to be here. I have no idea why you volunteered, but it certainly wasn’t for the grand prize” she said. “But I’m pretty sure you want to go back home and this seems to be the most efficient way to do that.”

“It’s clear that our respected mentors will be playing favourites now. I think Wells will pick you. So our mentoring sessions with them will be private. Clearly, the best way to use our resources entirely would be to share. That way, we survive together, until the very end. Once it’s just the two of us, may the best fighter win” she said with a shrug at the end.

Mon El knew what she had just said made sense. He too had noticed how, ever since the train ride, Wells had been giving him tips, somewhat confidentially, while Caitlin had reserved her pointers and thoughts only for Sam. It was the most sensible outcome of the situation. There were two tributes, but only one could become a victor. Clearly, the mentors had to choose, and from what Mon El had observed, they had already done so. He realized that if he were to survive the Games, he needed every bit of information that he could possibly gain. To add to that, the alliance was a perfect way to reduce the risks of sabotage that could be caused within the Career group. It could allow Mon El to make decisions such as not kill someone and still be regarded as a part of the team.

“Frankly, I think this is the best option that either of us have of returning home. And the win will be totally fair and square. If I win, I get a victory that’s earned. If you win, you get to go back to your sister.”

The mention of Maya was meant as an incentive, but to him, it sealed the deal. Agreeing to an alliance with Sam could potentially help him survive till the end without necessarily having to claim innocent lives. He was making a deal with the devil, but he was willing to take the risk. Decisively, he looked up straight in her eyes before giving her a short yet confident smile. “I’m in” he said, with clarity in his voice. He noticed how pleased Sam looked with his decision as they shook hands, just as the sun came up, lighting up the entire room. 

And so began their alliance.

* * *

As Kara walked into the common area of the District 12 floor, she saw Effie and Henry were already at the table. They were deep in conversation about something, when Effie looked up and announced, “There she is, the woman of the hour!” excitement clear in her voice.

From all the things that Kara had heard Effie and her prep team say right after the Tribute Parade ended, she understood one thing with utmost clarity; they had done a good job. Effie had spent the entire night describing the numerous reviews that Kara had received and how she was an absolute favourite among the people in the crowd. Even Henry had complimented her on her excellent performance in the Parade. Needless to say, District 12 would be getting quite a few sponsors this year.

“Can I just say how lovely you looked last night. Oh! I mean people threw roses at the chariot by the dozen!” Effie exclaimed, as Kara settled in her seat, opposite Henry. She quickly focussed on the food on her plate as Effie continued to list out all the details of the event, yet again. Being an alien, hiding her identity from the world was a part of Kara’s nature. Therefore, being the centre of attention had always been unnerving for her. The chariot ride from between the filled streets of the Capitol, only made it worse for her. 

To add to that, she was flying.

When Lena had explained her concept to her, she had been downright scared. At first, she had almost believed that Lena had somehow found out about her secret and that she would out her to all of Panem. But some calm thinking and a few deep breaths later, she had quickly realized that Lena was simply an imaginative designer, and nothing more. Besides, she had little reason to refuse her ideas without arousing suspicion, so she went with it. 

From then on, right until the moment she was standing in the District 12 chariot, she was accompanied by fear. Fear of things going wrong. Her mind played out every scenario in detail, as she imagined the power of the magnets going down, causing James to fall back to Earth while she remained in air. She could almost hear the angry cries of the audience as they rushed behind her with Kryptonite, when all of a sudden, her reverie was cut short by the extremely loud noise made by the actual audience. Only, they weren’t shouting curses at her. Instead, they were cheering her on. 

She felt the push below her feet, as the magnets on her boots deflected the magnets on the chariot and slowly, she rose up in the air. It was at that moment that she forgot her fear altogether. Although she wasn’t flying, the rush of the cool evening wind felt familiar to her. It somehow made her feel safe. That was how she had been able to face the crowd with a confident smile. When they finally reached their destination, she felt the deflection before her feet weakening, as she gracefully landed on her feet.

“Overall it was just fabulous” Effie was still talking. She almost continued, before Henry finally spoke up. “Now, that was our victory for day 1. Let’s move on to today” he said, looking at Kara with a serious expression.

At that moment, Kara took note of the empty chair next to her. “Shouldn’t we wait for James?” she asked. She noticed as Henry made a peculiar face, but didn’t say anything more. They waited for a few minutes, before James finally arrived.

For the half an hour that followed, Kara tried her level best to focus on everything that Henry had to tell them about the training week. She made mental notes about everything that seemed important to her. By the end, she quickly realized that if she had to come up with a plan to save James, the next week was the perfect time. She could use training as an excuse to get acquainted with the strengths and weaknesses of every player that would be in the arena, so that she could figure out how best she could protect James till the very end.

Besides her, she noticed that James was quieter than usual. He had a look on his face that almost felt as though he was uncomfortable; like he wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could. It was made even more evident, when he all but darted out of the room the moment Henry was done talking. Kara realized that she hadn’t talked to James ever since the Parade, as she didn’t see him again right until the elevator ride to the training area on the ground floor.

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed as though he were trying his level best to avoid her, for reasons unknown. She frowned in confusion, as she tried to recall the events that had occurred after the chariot ceremony had ended. She hadn’t seen him at all since their arrival on the 12th floor, the previous night. She recalled how he had made his way to the bedroom that was allotted to him and had disappeared behind its doors without a word to anyone. Kara, though she had been curious about James’s behaviour, was completely exhausted and had decided to go out to the balcony for some fresh air.

That was when her strange encounter with the boy from District 2 had made her forget about James entirely.

She had been busy looking up at the stars at first. It wasn’t until the green crystal on his necklace sparkled, that Kara had turned her attention towards him instead. She observed the peculiar stone for the longest time. The drop shaped crystal with its soothing aqua colour had felt familiar to her. It was simple, but strangely, Kara had found its presence comforting. 

It took her some time before she realized why that was.

Because the necklace reminded her of one that she owned, many years ago. The one that her mother had given her the day she had been forced to leave Krypton. Her birth-mother, whose name she couldn’t even remember, had told her in the most comforting voice possible, that as long as Kara had that necklace, she would never be alone. She had promised her that she would accompany her in her dreams. It was only when she had landed on Terra, that she realized that her words were never to come true, for the long travel in deep space had robbed Kara of every memory of her parents. The only tangible thing she had was the necklace and the voice of a woman she could not remember, from a planet she had called home.

It was why she had felt worse than ever before when she had lost her valued possession that day in the forest. Kara had just returned from her flying practice. Her Earth-father William had encouraged her to practice using her powers in the forest, away from the sneaky eyes of the Capitol. It wasn’t until she had reached home that day, that she had reached for the necklace , only to find it missing. She had rushed back in an attempt to find it. She had scoured the woodlands in the thunderous rain, but could not find it. That night, she had cried herself to sleep.

But when she had seen a similar crystal in the District 2 tribute’s hand, she hadn’t been able to stop staring. She used her enhanced vision to observe it as clearly as she could, and had found that the crystal was almost exactly like the one she had, with the exception that foreign black lines adorned it at the tip. But she couldn’t be sure. Not from this great a distance. 

That was when he had tucked the pendant inside his shirt. It made her realize that he was watching her; he knew that she had been staring at him. She had quickly looked away. But afterwards, right before he went inside, she hadn’t been able to stop herself, as she looked towards him once again, considering the crazy possibility, that a boy from District 2 could somehow have a piece of her home. Somehow, she wasn’t even surprised when he turned and looked right back at her. She had held his gaze for a minute, before he had gone inside, leaving her more confused than ever.

* * *

When the elevator-doors opened, Kara and James came face-to-face with a crowded room. People in white uniforms stood in different sections of the room, completely at ease, while a tense group of persons, varying in height, age and personalities, stood in the centre of the large room. The District 12 tributes quietly made their way towards the tributes and took their place next to the boy and girl from 11. Kara’s gaze wandered towards the boy from 2, but she quickly dismissed her thoughts and decided to focus instead on the task at hand; coming up with a plan to save James.

After they were given brief introductions about the training area and all the facilities that it housed, the tributes were assigned to different groups and training stations. Of the four compulsory exercises, Kara and James were both assigned first to the strength station. Waiting for her turn, Kara looked around the room. She quickly realized how most people here were completely inexperienced at exercises, as they failed to complete even the most basic ones. James, although he was quite strong and clever, as he proved to be at the strength and survival skills stations, was not at all experienced with weapons She was mildly, but positively, surprised when two of the youngest tributes there (the boy from 8 and the girl from 11) were actually faring well. Either way, one thing was for sure; none of these innocent people belonged here.

Then there were the Careers. Of all the people in the room, the six tributes that belonged to the Career Districts were performing remarkably. They moved rapidly around the different stations, showcasing their skills and achieving high praise in each one of the exercises. Even the game-makers, who sat in a raised room, observing the entire training area, had impressed looks on their faces whenever they observed a Career in action. Right from core training, to hand-to-hand combat, to weapons, they seemed to have mastered it all. It was perhaps why, unlike the others, they were actually mingling with each other, interacting enthusiastically with one another. Kara did not miss their side-glances, as they eyed all the other tributes and whispered amongst themselves. She quickly realized what they were doing.

They were making a kill-list.

She couldn’t explain how, but she let anger consume her at the sight of the Careers planning out how to kill away the very people that they saw in front of them right now. She scoffed at the hypocrisy, as she thought about how, in the end, they would turn on each other and without a second thought, would kill those that they considered allies not long ago.

Right as she finished her survival skills exercise, a dull thud from the station next to her caught her attention. She looked up, and saw that the sound had come from the hand-to-hand combat station, as a tribute had flipped over the fighter/trainer and slammed him on the ground, bringing his exercise to an end. Fascinated looks crossed the faces of everyone standing around that station, while the instructor who was standing nearby, complimented the male tribute from District 2 on his skill and finesse.

Kara would have looked away, for this was nothing out of the ordinary. Instead, she froze at the sight in front of her. Owing to the fight, his necklace was uncovered from under his shirt and was now visible. In the extremely well lit room, she could clearly see the crystalline pendant. With her enhanced vision, she observed the delicate silver frame around it, along with its drop-like shape.

There was no mistaking what she saw. This was her necklace.

Without knowing it herself, she walked briskly towards him. He was walking away from the training mat and towards his fellow Careers, when she caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder, turning him forcefully (she had used an amount of force that most certainly have broken a human’s shoulder, but she didn’t realize that until much later). He turned abruptly, and stared at her with a mix of confusion and anger in his eyes. Kara boldly stared back, as irrational thoughts of him somehow stealing her necklace filled her mind. They stared at each other directly in the eyes for a few seconds, before she asked, “Where did you get that necklace?”

He remained silent. He looked at her, curiously, as he considered her words. He racked his brain for an explanation for her strange fondness with the necklace, but couldn’t come up with one. “What?” he asked, curious about how she would respond. Before she could reply, however, Sam stepped in between them, facing her.

“Watch it 12” she said, a warning tone clear in her voice. “Practice a little more on your little survival station, before taking on the actual fighters” she said, mockingly.

Kara didn’t back down. She stared at her challenger daringly, when she felt an arm on her shoulder. “Let’s go, Kara” James said from behind. She broke her eye-contact with the girl from 2, as she looked at him and noticed a warning and concerned look. That snapped her back to reality. What was she doing? What was she trying to achieve? There was no way she could explain her outburst regarding another tribute’s personal effect. She tried desperately to think of something that could justify her actions, ultimately deciding that it was best to simply walk away. She turned, giving one last look to both the female and male tributes of 2, as the former stared at her with malice, while the latter had a strange curiosity in his eyes, before leaving with James. Just as they were returning to their stations, they were stopped by Sam’s booming voice as she said, “Well, would you look at that. I thought guys from the outskirts were supposed to be dumb. I guess some of you are smart after all.”

To his credit, James didn’t react to this. Neither did the guys from other outskirt Districts, who, though they had heard the statement, had simply chosen to ignore it because of fear.

“I don’t mean it as an insult” Sam continued. “It’s just that, if you look at most of the previous Games, you’ll observe that most of you don’t make it beyond a week. I mean, remember three years ago? The guy from 12 didn’t make it past the first few minutes.”

James stiffened considerably, as Kara noticed how he balled his fist.

“What was his name?” Sam continued knowingly. “Something Olsen, right? He must’ve been the easiest kill ever!” she exclaimed with a sly smile.

That had crossed a line for James, as he sharply turned and threw a punch at Sam, who as it turned out, had been expecting an action of this sort, and simply dodged his attempt, before grabbing his wrist and swiftly trapping his hand behind his back. The sudden commotion caused both Kara and Mon El to jump straight into action, as they quickly grabbed the tribute from their own District and attempted to restrain them. Shortly following this, the peacekeepers that had been stationed at the front of the training area, quickly rushed through, making their way towards the clamour. “Sam” Mon El spoke in a sharp yet calm tone, “Not here. Not now” he said, hoping his short message would be enough for her to snap out of her madness. She turned to him, a smile creeping up on her face, as she waited yet another second before releasing James. Further attempts that would have been made by James to attack her, were spoiled by the guards, as they were all asked to return to their respective stations.

The rest of their time in the training area passed by relatively quickly, and without more similar events. By the end of what must’ve been two hours of building traps and baits, Kara and James were finally ushered out and were sent to their floor. Ever since the incident, James had been dangerously silent. He hadn’t offered her any explanation about what Sam had said, and she hadn’t dared to ask. As soon as they had reached the top floor, neither of them said anything when Henry asked them how the day went. James walked away quietly, while Kara requested Henry to have someone send her lunch to her room.

She wanted to be alone for a while. The numerous things swirling in her mind had to be dealt with, properly. Because the only way she could help James survive, was by ensuring that she knew what she was dealing with. She wanted to analyze all the information that she had collected while training. She even made a list of all the things that she needed to ensure James would work upon, temper being at the top. But no matter how hard she tried, she simply could not get the necklace out of her head.

How could she? It belonged to her. It was one of the few things that tied her to her world; her home. More importantly, she couldn’t solve the riddle that had somehow caused her necklace to end up in possession of a boy from District 2. She needed answers. But there was no way to get them.

Annoyingly, she willed herself to forget about him, and focus on what her next move was to be.

There was a lot to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for the delay. I am actually on a mini vacation and it is just a little difficult to get the time I need to write. But no excuses! As a compensation, I'll try to update the next chapter on Friday (try being the keyword!)  
Until Next Time!
> 
> (Also, OMG, they finally met!!)


	11. Explore the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was the second day of training."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made it!

It was the second day of training.

As Kara woke up, she was greeted with bright sunlight, making her realize that she had slept for longer than usual. Hurrying through her morning rituals, she rushed through the corridor and reached the common area. Not unlike yesterday, she found the seats around the breakfast table occupied only by Effie and Henry as James was nowhere to be seen.

“He went down already” Henry said, observing her questioning look. “He wanted to get an early start,” he continued, before hesitating to say further. Kara settled into her seat at the table, keeping her eyes fixed on Henry, as though willing him to go on. She turned to look at Effie, who instead of her usual talkative self, had chosen this exact moment to keep her mouth shut. Kara turned to Henry again. 

“James has decided to opt for private mentoring. You both won’t be coached together anymore” Henry said. “It’s fairly common for tributes to go for separate sessions” he continued, as though trying to explain and defend James’s decision. “I mean, there comes a point in the Games where you realize that there will be only one victor. So, to make it easier for everyone, tributes just choose to get mentored alone, so that they can create strategies individually.”

Kara didn’t know how to react to what she had just been told. Kara knew that along with physical training, tributes were also given sessions with their mentors and presenters for deciding their plan of action in the arena. For James to have individual sessions with Henry and Effie, would mean that Kara would not know anything about his Game strategies. This in turn would make it almost impossible to help him survive till the end. There was nothing she could do to save him, if she didn’t know what it was that he had in mind in the first place.

Kara silently thought about the situation. She needed to protect James, of that she was sure, for she considered it her purpose to save and protect his innocent life in the nightmare that was the Hunger Games. While she knew that in doing so, she was indirectly ensuring the deaths of many other innocent people, she had told herself that there was nothing she could do for them. It was logic in its darkest form, but it was what it was.

Now, however, things had become much more difficult than they had previously been. Now, she was told that there was nothing she could do to save James either. That he would be fighting alone in the arena. That she simply had to accept the situation and move on.

What the situation didn’t know about Kara Zorel, was that she was Kryptonian; a race of some of the most stubborn people in the galaxy.

Before breakfast was over, Kara had already begun thinking of what she had to do to deal with the obstacle in front of her. She listened haphazardly as Henry told her about her first session with him later in the afternoon, before she got up and made her way to the elevator that would take her downstairs to the training centre. Once she was alone, she considered her options.

She pictured James’s personality. From the few days that she had known him for, she could tell, with complete certainty, that James was a headstrong man. He would never ask for help even if he desperately needed it, especially in matters such as surviving in the arena, as they involved relaxing one’s morals. This meant that directly offering him advice about something was out of the question. If he had decided to maintain a distance and stay away from Kara, he would rigidly do so. This was why Kara had to keep her distance too. She needed to ensure that she could help him at every turn, but appear indifferent to him throughout.

Next, Kara focussed on his strengths and weaknesses. James was strong. She figured that he had been lifting heavy instruments used for photon analysis since he was a child. To add to that, she had learnt from his first day of training, that he was a quick learner. He had already learnt numerous and even mastered a few traps that he could effectively use in the arena for the purpose of survival. However, the same day had told her that he could be easily angered. This was a major disadvantage in a place where anger could be the difference between life and death. Careers were trained manipulators, who could form allies and kill them off within seconds. Being emotionally vulnerable in front of them was essentially a sign of weakness. Anyone could take advantage of it.

As the elevator doors opened, revealing to Kara the training centre filled with tributes busy with various exercises, she knew what she needed to work on first. She glanced around the room and quickly spotted James, who was at the knife combat station. Before he could see her, however, she promptly walked over to the hand-to-hand combat station and greeted the instructor. It was important to convince James that she did not want anything to do with him, if she truly wished to help him. To add to that, she needed to ensure that she was strong herself, and that she could stand her ground in the arena, should the possibility of saving him from a skilled fighter like a Career, arise.

The next hour had gone by seemingly quickly, as Kara had learned with great focus, everything that her instructor had to teach her about close combat. She had been surprised to know that even when she wasn’t using her enhanced abilities, she could defend herself quite well. Even her instructor admired her skills and gave her some more pointers that could improve her fighting style even more. Once her sparring session was over, she decided to move to the nature survival station. It was the one place in the entire training area, where she could quietly observe everyone around her without them noticing it. This was because she was already quite knowledgeable in the specific area of nature survival. Her Earth-mother Alura had spent hours telling her about the various herbs and plants that grew in the forest. She had been 7 Earth-years old when she had already memorized most of the edible and poisonous plants. So now, she simply stood there segregating the various twigs and leaves in front of her into two piles: dangerous and useful. While she did so, she looked all around the room and surveyed what each tribute was up to.

Most tributes had taken up weaponry. Kara thought it was fairly obvious why combat was so popular. When faced with the inevitable possibility of their death, the first thing that humans considered was fighting their way out. It was absurd to consider that natural causes couldn’t kill just as effectively as a knife, and yet, people almost always forgot about it. Perhaps it was because of their inability to acknowledge the problems that were well beyond their control. Exposure could easily kill half of these tributes, and yet they all preferred to defend themselves with swords and arrows instead.

Kara watched the crowded combat stations for a bit, before her eyes turned towards the less trendy ones that included analytics, shelter building and even the nature survival one that she was in herself, among a few others. That was when she noticed the man that she had wanted to avoid at all costs, walking towards her. He was making his way to her station. Quickly, acting on instinct, she finished the activity in hand and briskly walked away just as he signed up for a nature skills activity. From the corner of her eye, she could see his gaze following her, but fortunately, he stayed at the station, as she hurried to put some distance between them, and signed up at the spear training station, situated at the far end of the room.

After twenty minutes of target practice with heavy, steel spears, Kara decided to take a break as she stood at one end of the training mat, holding a spear in hand and resumed observing the people around her. This time, she focussed solely on Careers, keeping an eye on the District 2 male tribute, as he was busy starting a fire with damp logs of wood. Once she was sure that he wouldn’t be following her any time soon, she turned around and looked at the tributes from District 1. The girl, who was lean yet strong, was busy sparring at the close combat station, while the boy was waiting for his turn. Kara gaped at her and was quite astonished by her fighting style, which included punching and scratching with her nails, like a cat. Closer inspection told Kara that her nails had been filed to make them uniquely pointed.

‘Committed’ Kara thought.

Kara then turned towards the tributes from 4, both of whom were busy solving a cognitive test in the analytics section. She observed the maniacal smile on the girl’s face as she looked at the young boy from 8, who had fallen from the monkey bars, attempting to complete a core exercise. It took her a moment to understand, but Kara quickly realized the purpose of her smile. The girl from 4 was actively imagining killing that poor boy in the arena. The thought of an extremely easy kill was enjoyable for her. Kara couldn’t remember when she had felt so much hate towards someone as she felt in that moment. It appalled her how easy it was for some people to consider killing as such a mundane thing. The act of taking a life was irreversible. And yet, the people here seemed not to disturbed by it.

In spontaneous anger, she did something that would make her regret her actions for quite some time. Unknowingly, she let go of her actual strength and clutched the steel spear in her hand a little too tightly. She immediately let go, as she felt a portion of the steel bar all but crumble in her palm. She stared at the bar with shock. 

An unnerving wave of panic filled her mind, as she registered the situation. She had accidentally crushed a steel rod. She had rumpled one of the strongest materials on Earth, as though it were nothing more than paper. Anyone watching her would surely have understood that there was something off with her. They would then bring her in for questioning. After that, they would quickly realize who she was…

Kara stopped herself before she could fall victim to a full-blown panic attack, and willed herself to focus instead on what she needed to do. First of all, she needed to distance herself from the altered weapon. She needed to be far away when it would be discovered by an instructor. Next she needed to check if anyone had seen her. She rapidly looked around and concluded that everyone in the training room was busy with one thing or the other. The boy from 2 had quickly looked away when she had looked in his direction, but she assumed he hadn’t seen her either.

Finally, she needed a cause for this state of the spear. As she walked over to the other side of the room, trying to come up with something, she spotted James, who, from his form appeared a little frustrated. In the adjacent station, she spotted both tributes from 2 deep in conversation. Just then, they were joined by other Careers. The boy from 2 had been constantly talking, which cause the others to turn and look at James, one-by-one, with a peculiar look. Suddenly, she came up with a plan, as she rushed over to James.

“Go throw that metal ball over there.” she said to James, pointing to a large metal ball with spikes. James looked at her with astonishment and confusion evident on his face. “Those Careers over there look like they’re gonna eat you alive. You have to show them your strengths” she explained in a low enough volume. He waited a few seconds, as though considering her words, before standing up and walking towards where the metal spheres were kept.

Cautiously, he picked up a medium sized sphere from its handle with both hands, familiarizing himself with its weight, and faced his target: a metal frame that had multiple spears stacked on it vertically. Carefully, he released the handle, so he was now lifting the entire weight with only his right hand. He braced his shoulders and with a grunt, lifted his arm and swung the metal ball upwards, before throwing it with full force. The strength he used was sufficient to carry the metallic sphere all the way towards his target, as the spikes of the sphere hit the frame with a loud clang, causing some of the spears to fall down.

Kara let out a mental sigh of relief. Not only had James dented multiple spears and camouflaged the one she had crushed herself, but also, in just one move, showcased his athletic abilities. As the sound echoed all across the room, everyone present in the training area was instantly aware of James's mighty presence.

To their credit, instead of appearing sore or angry, all Careers except one, actually looked impressed; like they now respected James a little. The boy from 2 had a somewhat cryptic look. Kara didn't pay much attention to it, as she was mostly relieved. She had killed two birds with one stone. (or rather saved two birds with one metallic sphere!)

Kara had to sit through lunch with Effie. As her presenter, it was Effie's responsibility that Kara was as likeable in public as she possibly could be, to ensure that she got sponsors. As a result, her entire afternoon went by in a blur of walking exercises, hand waving practice (Kara had incredulously spent 15 minutes waving her hand) and nearly an hour long lecture about body language. By late afternoon, Effied finally showed mercy and had ended her session with Kara. Kara sat alone in the room, trying to get her utterly bored mind to freshen up, when Henry walked entered the room and walked briskly towards his seat opposite Kara. Although it was subtle, he had a determined look in his eyes that told Kara that her mentor was almost eager to discuss Game strategies with her.

“So, James tells me you had an incident with a Career yesterday” Henry began, as Kara looked at him silently.

She had hoped for the longest time after her outburst the previous day that the entire moment would simply be forgotten and she could pretend like it never happened. But now, hearing about it from her mentor had made her realize the far-reaching consequences of her decision. It made her think about how she hadn’t even tried to conceal her voice as she had asked the male tribute from 2 about the necklace ( _ her necklace, _ a voice in her head said possessively, but she ignored it). Instead, she considered the possibility of the gamemakers, who always observed the tributes in training, finding out about her interest with the necklace. What if they thought that there was something fishy about her behaviour? Or worse, what if they had already figured out her secret?

“Now, I understand that you did what you did to display fearlessness, but I feel like it wasn’t necessary.” Henry’s voice and his words had pulled Kara out of her hysteria, as she considered what he had said. Something clicked and she quickly realized that there was absolutely nothing to be worried about. Her actions, had apparently made her mentor (and hopefully everyone) think that she meant to display her courage to the rest of the tributes. To them, she had simply stood up to a feared Career. What she had said, simply didn’t matter. 

A wave of relief passed in her mind as she calmed down and quickly responded with a “Yeah, I thought I’d try to appear strong” before earning a nod of approval from Henry, which made her relax even further.

“It wasn’t a bad idea, but you don’t wanna overdo it. Just stick to trying stuff out at different stations. I hear you’re very good in close combat?” he asked.

“I’m alright” Kara replied with a shrug.

“Well if James is to be believed, you’re more than alright. You can’t underrate yourself if you want me to truly help you.” 

Although Henry’s remark had made her admit sheepishly that she had received good scores in hand-to-hand combat along with other things, she had been more focussed on what he had said in the beginning of his statement. For some reason, the fact that James had been observing her annoyed her. “So he says he doesn’t wanna train with me but he keeps an eye on me? What is he trying to do, exactly?” she suddenly voiced her irritation.

Henry considered her question for a few seconds before calmly replying, “I think he’s just scared. The Games make you that way. They push you to the point where you’re always afraid of what might happen next.”

Kara knew exactly what that felt like. She understood the constant fear that wandered in one’s mind when they were put in a life-threatening situation. She was well aware of a situation where one was so afraid of what might happen, that they refused to leave the safety of their own house. What she couldn’t understand, was how James had decided to act in such a peculiar way. How he had thought that pushing people away in times of distress was the logical thing to do.

“How is isolating yourself in times of fear a good idea?” she asked. “If you’re afraid of dying, the first thing you should do is run towards people, not away from them”

“Not if those people are the ones trying to kill you” Henry replied. Realization dawned on Kara as she understood exactly what Henry meant. Although Kara herself knew that she had planned to protect James throughout the Games, to him, she was just another tribute trying to ensure his death. She was merely another contestant trying to win the competition.

She couldn’t quite figure out how she could respond to Henry’s statement. A few more seconds of silence passed before Henry spoke again, “But I don’t think he’s avoiding you because of that. I think the reason that he’s maintaining a distance is because he thinks he might negatively affect your chances of winning.”

If Kara couldn’t figure out what to say before, she completely blanked out on words now. It took her a few moments to catch the exact meaning of Henry’s comment. She thought to herself about how focussed she was on figuring out how to save James, when apparently, he had been trying to do the same for her.

“He told me about what happened yesterday” Henry continued. “How he lost his temper and almost got into a fight with the girl from 2. Because of that, he wants to stay away from you, so people don’t consider you weak like him.” 

The rest of her time with Henry involved Kara listening haphazardly to Henry’s plan for once she was inside the arena and mechanically nodding her head to everything he said. Her mind had become obscure with the information that she had been provided with. Not only was the person that she was trying to save planning to sacrifice his life for her, but also, it seemed that he had simply given up. The chaos in her mind did nothing to help her think about anything, as she silently ate dinner, before finally deciding to retire for the day.

Once alone, she paced across her room countless times, trying to come up with a solution to her problems. She found it quite difficult to focus on one particular thing, for her mind seemed to be infested with multiple, seemingly unsolvable difficulties. Just then, her super-hearing picked up on the sound of footsteps in the common area outside. Considering how late in the night it was, along with the fact that her thinking was failing her at the moment, she decided to investigate.

When she reached the living room, she saw the source of the sound sitting quietly, staring at the Capitol below. Kara stared at James for a moment, before finally deciding to approach him, as she made her way and sat on the chair placed opposite himShe expected him to walk away at the sight of her, but instead he gave her a small smile, before saying “Couldn’t sleep either?”

Kara remained silent. She watched as he waited for a second, before turning again to observe the city-lights. A minute of silence passed, before he said, abruptly, “Jared Olsen was my elder brother. It was his last year when he got picked”

Kara knew instantly what James was talking about. She remembered when three years ago a boy resembling James had been called onto the stage in the reaping ceremony. She remembered telling Eve how she commended his ability to maintain a calm look.

That was until the ceremony had ended and Jared had tried and almost succeeded to make a run for it. It had taken the combined efforts of Henry and a couple of peacekeepers to restrain him and finally take him inside, as he kept screaming and begging that he didn’t wanna go in the Games. What was worse, was that the entire thing had been televised.

People had already concluded that he was going to lose. Kara herself had deduced that he was going to die. But no one could have guessed that he would’ve died so early, even before the Games technically began.

When the Games commenced, during the countdown in the arena, the tributes were required to remain on their platforms. Only when the clock above the cornucopia displayed zero, were the tributes allowed to step off and run towards whatever direction the saw fit. Jared, in a state of panic, had hastily stepped off his platform before the clock had even reached 1 and as a result had been blasted off right there. It had been one of the quickest deaths Kara had ever witnessed.

Studying the look on her face, James understood that Kara had remembered the incident with his brother. “I remember when we had gone to meet him before he left for the train” he said, bringing Kara back to reality. “He kept crying. I told him that he needed to stay strong but I knew he wasn’t gonna make it.” The way James said it made Kara feel utterly sorry for the man in front of her, for she didn’t miss the absence of emotion in his voice. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been for him to witness the death of a loved one and for it to be projected as something to laugh about. She remembered Caesar’s comment on the incident, as he had joked, “Platform 1, idiot 0!”

“You know what the worst thing about it all was?” James continued. “That Jared was actually the bravest man I knew. After our father died, he practically raised me and my sister. He looked after the house, he helped my mom with work, he entered his name in for tesserae twice every month for food. He was my hero.”

“But all people will ever know him as, is the idiot who died before the Games even began,” he said bitterly. “The Games turned him into something he was not. I don’t want that to happen to me. When I die in the arena, I want to go bravely. I want people to know that I’m not a coward. And neither was my brother.”

Kara continued to stare at him silently, listening to his every word carefully, when he looked up to her and gave her a sad smile. “Look, I know I’m not gonna win; I don’t want to. The least I can do is help you, right? I mean you can actually make it, Kara, you’re pretty strong. People already like you. I saw in the Tribute Parade, all eyes were on you. And the way you stood up to those Careers, that was amazing. And today, you helped me appear strong in front of them. Trust me, you’re gonna win this year.”

Kara remained silent. She couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by everything that James had told her. She felt a mix of annoyance, anxiety and regret in her mind. All this time, she hadn't even considered victory for herself. She had been so busy trying to make people's perception about James as favourable to his victory as possible, that she had forgotten to take into consideration just how strong she appeared herself. While she had been readying herself for protecting her fellow tribute, others had been thinking that she was preparing to fight for herself. Overall, she felt guilty. As though she had not taken enough steps towards ensuring the fulfillment of her purpose.

It was why she didn’t notice when James wished her goodnight before he quietly got up and left for his room. She wasn’t even completely aware when her feet had carried her to her own room. When she finally lay on her bed, her final thoughts consisted of a swirl of incidents that had occurred throughout the day. Learning about James’s decision to train alone, training in close combat, almost giving away her identity, learning about James’s purpose in the Games, all replayed in her mind as she closed her eyes. Somehow, her final thoughts had been about her encounter with the boy from 2, before she felt an overpowering exhaustion pull her into deep slumber. A lot had happened today.

And it was only the second day of training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always considered what Peeta says in the balcony scene to be among the bravest things I've ever heard. He wanted to die as himself. He didn't want the Games to change him.  
To add to that, I think it's incredibly brave to be selected in the reaping and not try to run away any chance you get. To simply stand there and accept your circumstances and fight back. It takes a lot of courage.  
Here, James is NOT like Peeta. But what he's going through is kinda similar. What his brother did was completely normal. Sadly, he (along with a few other decent people in the Capitol right now) is the only one who sees that.


	12. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Infuriating. 
> 
> That was how he would describe the female tribute from District 12."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I actually write all this?! Oh my gosh, this is such a long chapter!!

He was sure now.

Although Harrison Wells had been quite impressed by Mon El ever since the reaping, he had been experienced enough not to root for his victory right away. It was therefore, that his mentoring hadn’t begun right from day one, as he had taken time to simply observe the male tribute first. The years that he had spent as a mentor allowed him to see the difference between a fighter and an achiever. Sure, Mon El had great scores from the academy, a unique purpose for volunteering and the ability of maintaining a remarkable facade. But none of them had been an indication to his will to actually win the Games. The train ride to the Capitol and the entire day of the Chariot ceremony had told him nothing about why Mon El wished to win (if he even did). If, as his mentor, Wells had to train him to survive in the arena, he had to know for sure what his cause for surviving was, in the first place.

It wasn’t until after the end of the Tribute Parade that he had finally found that cause, as he had watched Mon El standing in the balcony, completely transfixed by the necklace that he had brought with him as his personal effect. In that moment, Wells had understood that the male tribute’s need to return home was what would drive him to survive through the Games and emerge victorious, as he had realized how the necklace had not been a part of his attire in the reaping. It was only after he had said his goodbyes to his family and friends, did the necklace appear around his neck, which in turn meant that it was given to him by a loved one. Wells had mostly been assured by the fact that Mon El’s resolve to fight came from emotional grounds, as he had himself known how powerful the urge of returning to loved ones could be. It was what had helped him survive his own year in the Games.

Any remaining doubt that he had about his tribute’s capability had quickly vanished over the course of training week. Unlike his first day in the Capitol, Mon El had displayed a certain readiness in training for and learning about numerous tactics related to the Games. Contrary to his first day, when he had appeared to Wells more broken than determined, he had spent his training week rigorously practicing his already brilliant combat skills and further polishing his preparation by acquiring extensive insight from his mentor. Over the week, everything that Wells had learned about his tribute, had made him realize that Mon El was perhaps one of the best tributes that he had mentored, to the point that now, as he sat across from him discussing strategies for the day, over breakfast, he knew with certainty, that he was sharing the table with the future victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.

“You ready for today?” Wells asked, as he examined Mon El’s face closely, waiting for a reply. Without more than a second’s delay, Mon El looked at him and uttered confidently, “Born ready” giving his mentor a short yet fearless smile. In his mind, Wells applauded the young man at continuing to remain as cryptic as ever. Although Mon El had not remained as secretive with his facial appearance as he had on reaping day, he still radiated enigma, which made it impossible to tell what went on in his mind, for even an experienced mentor like Wells couldn’t decipher the mystery.

Before they could discuss further, however, they were interrupted by the arrival of Caitlin and Sam, as they wordlessly took their places at the table. Both mentors greeted each other with controlled smiles while the tributes looked at one another knowingly. It amused both Sam and Mon El how their mentors were trying this hard to hide their ‘competition’. Mere hours after they had agreed to their secret alliance, both tributes from 2 had found out how accurate their guess had been regarding their mentors playing favourites, as they were each taken to different rooms for breakfast that morning. Wells had indeed chosen to mentor Mon El while Caitlin had taken Sam under her wing. They were both given instructions on how to behave in the training area and what all to reveal to others, including each other, regarding their strategies. It was of little use, however, as Mon El and Same exchanged detailed notes as soon as they were away from their trainers.

The four ate in silence for a few minutes, before Caitlin finally spoke up.

“Now, the reporting time is in ten minutes,” she said, addressing the tributes in front of her, “and you’ll be having lunch in the common area near the training centre, with the rest of the tributes.” Upon noticing the confused look on Mon El and Sam’s faces, Wells explained, “most people don’t know this, but the gamemakers will be observing you all throughout lunch today. How you interact with other tributes is actually an important factor in deciding your individual assessment scores.”

Today was the final day of the tribute training week. But, instead of practicing their skills, today they were required to showcase their fighting prowess to the gamemakers. Each tribute would be given ten minutes, wherein, they needed to demonstrate to the people in charge, a combat skill of their choice. Based on how well they fared, they would then be graded on a scale of one to twelve, where twelve meant ‘most lethal’, while a one translated to ‘will die within the hour of the countdown’. These scores were treated as a summary for each tribute, and were an extremely important factor in deciding their fate in the arena, for high scores attracted sponsors, while low scores attracted killers.

Another reason that these marks meant as much as they did, was because the sessions were private. As a result, no one, but the gamemakers and the tribute concerned knew exactly what skill the tribute chose to display. This allowed strategists to save the best for last and earn an element of surprise in the Games. It was why Mon El had steered clear of the archery station for the entire week, while Sam hadn’t visited the hand-to-hand combat one. They had even avoided a few other, select stations to confuse their fellow Careers, and had kept a close watch on which skill-exercises the tributes from 1 and 4 had avoided themselves.

“So, Mon El” Caitlin turned to him, “from what I hear, you’ve been quite popular at target practice. Be sure to showcase your perfect aim today.”

As innocent as that advice sounded, Mon El could very clearly interpret its hidden meaning. Because all throughout the past week, Mon El had completely avoided the target station altogether. He understood, therefore, that Caitlin’s lie had been deliberate. In just one statement, Caitlin had made it clear to him and Wells that, although she didn’t know exactly what skill he had chosen, she knew it involved aiming, which in turn narrowed down the range of weapons that he could use.

He smiled at her, as he said, “It doesn’t matter what I showcase. At the end of the day, I just have to make sure that they remember me. That I make an impression.” He was surprised himself at how tactfully innocent he had managed to sound, as Caitlin, still smiling, eyed him indecisively, while Wells looked at him with a smile resembling one a proud teacher would give to his best student. After all, it was Wells who had taught him to be as ambiguous as he could be to his competition. He had thought about how back on Daxam, he had never truly realized why diplomacy was such a valued skill for the royal family. Today, as he sat in his chair, observing the slightest look of unease on his rival mentor, he understood.

A few minutes passed in silence, as no one spoke much after that. At exactly a minute before their reporting time, Sam and Mon El nodded goodbyes to their mentors and got in the elevator. A few seconds after the doors closed, Sam smiled at Mon El and simply said, “shoot straight”, to which he replied, “try not to break the trainer’s arm”. It was their way of letting each other know that they already knew what the other wished to hide. He didn’t mind. Neither did she.

* * *

The elevator ride from the twelfth floor to the training area was a quiet one. Both Kara and James were nervous, but for different reasons. While the latter was afraid of appearing weak, the former was anxious for the exact opposite reason. Although Kara had done well to hide her mishap with the spears from a few days ago, the incident had forged itself in her mind. It was a constant reminder of how easily she could give away everything that her Earth-parents had worked so hard to protect, over the years. She had to be careful. 

It was why selecting her skill for the individual assessment had been so difficult. She had tried her level best to convince her mentor to let her select a simple skill, like knife throwing or archery, wherein she could simply display her splendid aim and be done with it. However, owing to the lack of time that she had spent at the target station, along with how he felt that Kara was underestimating her capabilities, Henry had chosen hand-to-hand combat for her instead. Kara had been irritated the entire day, when she had been unable to explain to her unsuspecting mentor, why a skill that involved using brute strength was an extremely bad idea for her. How she couldn’t exactly use her maximum strength while fighting, for she was afraid of injuring the trainer with nothing more than a firm handshake. She had considered using the bit of kryptonite on her pin to turn into human for a while, but due to the numerous unknowns in her situation, along with the many other problems that it could entail, she had ultimately decided against it.

Tuning out her thoughts, she looked beside her and observed the tense form of James. She noticed how easy it was to figure out that her fellow tribute was nervous, and made a mental note of how he needed to work on his ability to hide things. It made her realize how favourable the turn of events on their third day of training had been.

The morning after James had told Kara how he planned to die in the Games, she had confronted him over breakfast. Henry and Effie had stared, as Kara had all but berated her fellow tribute on how stupid he was appearing. “You don’t give up, if you want to show people that you’re strong!” she had exclaimed. “Isolating yourself just makes you look weak. It puts you high on people’s kill list. No matter what happens, you never give in. If you truly wanna honour your brother, then you need to fight back.”

All the while, James had looked at her, quite incredulously. When she was done, he had taken a few minutes to consider her words. He had thought to himself, how all of it could simply be a trick on her part, but logic had told him otherwise. Why would a girl as strong as Kara, knowing that he didn’t plan on surviving, ever consider him a threat, enough to try and trick him with words. To add to it, there was a sincerity in her eyes that had made him see reason. Ultimately, he had decided to accept a helping hand from her and so, a team between the two tributes of District 12 had formed.

The elevator doors hissed open, allowing Kara and James to step out into the training area. Part of the area was cleared out completely and consisted only of a row of benches. Tributes were seated in order, with those from 1 occupying the front row. Kara's eyes travelled across the room, as she observed the clear contrast between the Careers, who were chatting away, not caring about who heard them, and the others, who were quiet, nervously shifting in place. As soon as they occupied their seats next to the tributes from 11, Kara continued her visual assessment of the room. Involuntarily, she paused on the boy from 2 and noticed how, although he was talking to his fellow Careers, he wasn't smiling as much as them, chatting with them in a low volume, being considerate enough not to affect the non-Careers around him. 

‘Or perhaps he was just planning whom to kill first’, Kara thought.

Suddenly, a static sound filled the room, silencing the chatter and making everyone collectively turn their attention to the front. A few seconds passed before a male voice announced “District 1. Trevor Bolt.” Right as his name was called, Trevor, a hefty man with dark hair, got up and wordlessly made his way towards the door at the far end of the room, disappearing behind the solid steel doors. Kara observed how the atmosphere in the entire room turned even more fearful than before, as everyone stared at the doors for a couple of seconds, before resuming their wait. Exactly ten minutes later, the announcer’s voice was back, this time calling a Grace Parker from District 1 to the assessment room. One by one, tributes disappeared behind the doors, as the room became more and more stranded, until finally, only James and Kara remained.

Just then, “District 12. James Olsen” the voice called out. Kara turned to James, as he let out a shaky breath, before standing up, readying himself to move forward. Right as he began to walk, Kara called after him, causing him to turn to her. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “You’re strong, remember that”. To this, he relaxed a little, nodding with determination, before turning and walking towards the assessment room. The ten minutes that passed by after James disappeared behind the doors, felt more like hours to Kara, as she anxiously sat still in the waiting room, that somehow seemed much larger, now that she was alone. She had taken to staring at the dark ceiling above her when, suddenly, “District 12. Kara Zorel,” the voice returned. Almost mechanically, Kara arose from her place and confidently walked towards the evaluation room.

Inside, the first thing she noticed was the two peacekeepers standing eerily at the entrance. Their face was completely hidden because of their visors while their stance remained impassive. Kara felt a chill run through her at the sight that the lowly lit room created along with the creepy looking peacekeepers. Instinctively, she scanned the entire room for a way out. 

As she walked over to the centre, she observed the large group of gamemakers busy talking amongst themselves. It appeared that a feast was underway, as most people had either crystal plates full of food, or sleek looking glasses that contained drinks of various colours. She waited for a few seconds, before loudly clearing her throat, in an attempt to gain the panel’s attention. “Kara Zorel. District 12” she said when she was finally sure that she had their undivided attention. Looking across the room, she called upon the close-combat trainer and readied her stance, waiting to begin.

The trainer made the first move, as she raised her fist in an attempt to punch Kara. It was easily avoided, as Kara ducked to her side, which, as it seemed did not go unnoticed by her opponent, as the trainer swiftly turned and aimed a punch at Kara’s abdomen instead. Kara speedily grabbed her wrist before it could make contact with her body, ensuring not to use her maximum strength and pulled the trainer’s arm away, before pushing her away. It was clear to anyone that was observing the fight, that the trainer was on the offence, while Kara was plainly defending. It was a smart strategy, but it wouldn’t work for long. After a number of such blows, Kara noticed that the trainer was finally getting tired of her defending routine, and was trying to end the fight. That was when she spotted her mistake. She had left her leg completely unguarded. Kara quickly jumped at the opportunity and kicked her opponent, making her lose balance. The trainer’s hands were locked behind her back even before she hit the ground. After a few seconds, as Kara let go, she realized.

She had won.

She couldn’t help but feel triumphant, as she let out a sigh of relief, while the trainer quietly walked back to her spot. Kara smiled a little, as she replayed the fight in her head and realized that she hadn’t made a single error. She had even ensured that her strength was put to as little use as possible, as she had used her mind over her vigour. Expectantly, she looked up to her audience.

Only to find them obsessing over lamb.

It seemed that the panel of gamemakers had grown bored with the long sparring session being played out, specifically for them, and had decided instead to focus on the lavish party that currently went on in their room. Kara watched, incredulously, as the head gamemaker, Seneca Crane made jokes about the spread, and urged everyone to enjoy the gathering. After having fought as incredibly as she had, Kara was complimented with the backs of spectators who valued food over the life of human being.

At first, she couldn’t believe it. But the more she saw the spectacle in front of her, the angrier she got. How could they treat this so lightly? Did they not know how important the individual assessment scores were for tributes to gain sponsors? Or perhaps they just did not care.

It was her realization that the answer was indeed the latter, that made her act on impulse, as she rapidly walked over to the knife section of the room and picked up a mid-size kunai. Turning to face the audience, she used her enhanced abilities, completely aware that she was doing so, and took aim, before throwing it with almost all the strength she had.

When the blade found its target in a piece of tomato that was previous resting on a serving spoon, in the hand of a gentleman, but now had stuck to the wall opposite him, along with the knife itself, shocked heads turned in her direction. Nobody realized what had happened. Everyone was left speechless, with looks of fear and awe, that adorned their faces. Kara held their gazes for a few seconds, before she loudly said, “Thank you for your consideration”. She bowed, almost mockingly, before walking away towards the exit.

* * *

When Kara finally reached the lunch room, she had expected her adrenaline to run out. She had thought that reality would splash cold water on her face and harshly remind her of how wrong it was to do what she had done in her ‘individual assessment’. Surprisingly, however, she felt great. She felt as though, for the first time since she had become part of the Games, that she had actually been able to do the right thing. That for the first time since she had reached the forsaken Capitol, things had gone her way. 

Although it was most likely that her score now would be on the lower side, she realized that she didn't mind. She could easily survive in the arena with a low score. Long enough to ensure that James could win. 

That was another thing that she hadn't quite thought about. For James to be the sole survivor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games, she had to die herself. She knew when she had set foot in the Capitol that she would never go back home, for the cost of doing so was too high. She could, in a dark and twisted way, justify the deaths of 22 innocent lives for saving someone else. But if that someone was her, accepting the argument would be downright impossible. It was why, out of the many versions of future scenarios that played out in her mind, not a single one included her walking away from this. It was why, even though she hadn't fully come to terms with it, she knew in the back of her head that the 74th Annual Hunger Games would be her final battle on Terra. 

At least she would die with an act of defiance, she thought, remembering the happenings in the assessment room.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as she saw James approaching her. “How’d it go?” he asked in a low voice, so none of the other tributes could hear them. 

“Great” she said, in a sarcastic tone, causing him to look at her with confusion and concern. Before she could explain further, however, she noticed a pair of eyes staring at her. She looked in his direction, to find the boy from District 2 maintaining a steady gaze. Puzzled by it, she stared back, thinking that he would look away. But he didn’t. Instead, he seemed even more interested in observing her now, knowing that she knew he was watching. “I’ll explain later” Kara said to James, maintaining eye-contact with the Career, as it made her realize how she was in a crowded room full of people who wanted to win the Games and would thus love to know a secret as big as what happened during her individual assessment, in order to gain the upper hand in the arena.

James understood her want of secrecy and did not prod further. Instead, he led her towards the large spread of food that was laid out for the tribute’s lunch. When she reached the counter, Kara was handed a neat package that was labelled with her name. James received a similar package, before they made their way towards an empty table, away from the most popular table in the room, the one that was occupied by the Careers.

Settling down in her seat, Kara opened her package. She was baffled by what she saw inside, for the food that was assigned to her, included all the items that she had eaten and preferred, over the past week. The pack was specifically designed, taking into consideration her likes and choices. It was meant specifically for her. She was amazed by how much time the people in charge were willing to give to the food preferences of people that they planned to send in a bloodbath. She was more amazed by the fact that despite having the many resources that the Capitol had, to study such pointless things, they still faced extensive problems in the districts. With the mammoth advancements in technology that Panem had made, specifically in the Capitol, why wouldn’t the people in-charge not use it to solve the numerous problems that riddled their society? Instead, they made use of said technology to make the deaths of innocent people as  _ interesting _ as possible. Kara pitied humans for this very reason. They had potential to become among the most advanced races in the galaxy. Instead, this is how they chose to live.

She shook away her thoughts and focussed instead on her food. Only after she took her first bite, did she realize just how hungry she had been. Within a couple of minutes, when she had licked clean every last of her food boxes within her package, she observed James, who appeared quite amazed with how quickly she could eat, for he wasn’t even done half-way. He politely offered her some food from his own package, which she sheepishly declined. Instead, she got up and made her way towards the dustbins to get rid of her empty food packs.

The recycle-bins were placed in an isolated corner, far away from all the ‘festivities’ of the lunch room, hidden from the direct view of the tables. Kara walked across the room and deposited the trash in the green, steel boxes. When she turned, she was suddenly startled, for her path was blocked by a familiar form.

“I want to talk to you,” Mon El, (she had heard, and somehow remembered his name from when it was announced in the waiting area) said in a hushed and hurried tone.

Kara frowned at him, before replying in a clear voice, “I don’t” before beginning to walk away from him. She had no reason to stop and talk to a Career, especially when she was trying to avoid him after the necklace incident.

“It’s difficult crushing steel in your bare hands, won’t you agree?”

The statement made Kara stop dead in her tracks. Her breath hitched as she slowly considered what he had just said. She tried to calm herself, as she contemplated her options. Clearly, Mon El had seen the incident with the spear. He had witnessed her doing something quite impossible for a normal human being on Terra. ‘That doesn’t mean he knew something was wrong with her’ she calmly told herself, as she turned around to face him. “What?” she asked, deciding to play dumb. She did her best to act confused, yet irritated, as someone wrongly accused of something would do.

He wasn’t buying it.

“I saw what you did with the spear” he continued, calmly. “It’s not something you see everyday.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” she responded, a little more frustratedly than she would’ve liked. He dismissed her behaviour, however. Instead, he continued in a hurried tone, as though suddenly realizing that he did not have much time.

“Look, I know you’re scared” he said. “I know this isn’t something you admit to, right away. But don’t worry. I haven’t reported the incident to anyone. Your secret’s safe.”

‘Was he threatening her?’ Kara thought, seethingly. She contemplated the idea that he actually wished to use the incident as leverage, and found herself fuming internally. She remembered when she had seen him for the first time during the reaping, and had thought about how he simply did not appear evil. Now, however, she felt like that had been but a mask. She believed that she was witnessing the whole truth now.

“I just wanna ask one thing” he continued before pausing for a moment, preparing himself for the next few words that he was about to utter. “Are you not from  _ here _ ?”

That was when she finally let panic, blended with anger, take over her entirely. Thoughts of Kal, the tortured alien, rushed through her mind. She decided that the best thing to do in a situation as this one, was simply to walk away, not paying heed to any of his accusations. She glared at him, boldly, as though daring him to make any more threats. He didn’t, however. Instead, he eyed her with intense curiosity. She turned and had taken one step away from him, when, 

“Answer me” he demanded. She stopped, but did not turn. This caused him to continue as he said, “Look, just- Just tell me this. Answer my question and then you can go on ignoring me, like you have the entire week.”

It made her realize that he had indeed noticed that she was avoiding him in the training centre, every day after she had questioned him about the necklace.

“Please” 

This caused her to turn sharply. “Look,” she said, patience running out, while panic settled in her mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” she stressed on every word. “And I do not want to talk to you.”

This earned her an annoyed look from him, as he quickly replied. “Oh c’mon!” he exclaimed. I’m not trying to intimidate you. I just wanna know the truth. Why else would I have helped you cover that thing up? Why do you think I talked to everyone else about James being a weakling, causing him to notice their dirty looks and throwing that giant ball to display his strength?”

The revelation, though surprising, did little to calm Kara’s mental turmoil.

“If you’re so worried about me not giving away your secret, why do you think I haven’t reported you till now?”

“Because you’re a Career?!” she lashed out, ensuring her volume was still low. “Because that’s what you do? You lie and manipulate others because that’s the way you’re trained to deal with anything. So why didn’t you report whatever it was that you think you saw? Maybe because you thought a controversy like this one would come in the way of your stupid victory. That’s all you care about, isn’t it? Bringing  _ glory _ to your district?”

When she finished, there was a moment of silence that made Kara feel extremely vulnerable. All throughout her time on Terra, she had been taught to never let her true emotions show. It was the only way she had survived as long as she had. But now, her words had displayed exactly what she thought about, not only the Career-pack, but also the Games in general.

She noticed the shift of expressions on his face, as he went from annoyed to angry, to blank within seconds. She realized that he hid his emotions far better than her. With the look of resign, he said, “Right, and you’ve already made up your mind about me. So, it seems kinda pointless to keep talking to you”

Without waiting for a response, he walked away.

* * *

Infuriating. 

That was how he would describe the female tribute from District 12. Within fifteen minutes of him walking away from her and taking his place at the Career table, the bell sounded off, indicating that lunch was over and all tributes were required to go back to their respective floors. All throughout, he thought angrily about her accusations. When he reached his floor, he hid what went on in his head and calmly answered all the questions that his mentor had about his assessment session. They discussed some more strategies for the entire afternoon, leaving him no time to consider the implications of his encounter with the girl from 12.

Only after late evening, did Wells finally decide to give him some free time, which quickly led him to his room, shutting the door behind him and lying down on his bed. It was then that he realized how tired he actually was. Events of the day, combined with him having to control the cameras of the lunch room, and finally the long discussions with Wells, had left him exhausted. 

He stared at the ceiling for a few moments, before his mind returned to her. At first, when he had considered her many accusations, he had been angered beyond reason. 'How could she think that low of him?' he had thought. Did she not know how he had helped her camouflage her mistake? Was she even aware of how strenuous it was to control the electricity flowing through multiple cameras at once? Overall, he had been annoyed. 

But now, as he lay on his bed, alone in his room, he realized that that annoyance had simmered down a bit. Instead, he found himself thinking about a completely different aspect of things; the more important aspect. If he were right, which he was about eighty percent sure that he was, he realized that it meant that the female tribute from District 12 (Kara, he recalled her name) was an alien.

The comprehension made him sit up. He felt slightly elated, as he entertained the possibility that he was no longer the only alien on this world. That he wasn’t the only one who could bend steel with the slightest of force or couldn’t feel human touch. He tried not to get his hopes up, but a part of him just couldn’t help it. How could he not get excited at the prospect? While it was true that the girl in consideration just happened to be one of the most annoying beings he had ever met, it didn’t change the fact that he was no longer the only person who couldn’t call himself human.

He wasn’t alone.

* * *

Infuriating.

That was how she found Mon El from District 2. At first, it scared her, that he suspected her to be ‘out of place’. But now, it just angered her. The more she thought about their confrontation, the more irritated she felt. And yet, there was an unresolved mystery behind it all. Because the reasoning, that he did not report her because he wanted a clean victory didn’t make much sense. It could be that he just wasn’t sure about what he had seen. But if he had doubts before, Kara knew that he would be sure now.

And yet, there was no news about anyone reporting about an alien. There were no peacekeepers at the door waiting to drag her away and take her for torture-testing. She was here. Safe and alive, even though someone in the very same building knew her secret.

Frantically, she paced in her room, trying to come up with a clarification that could explain why Mon El had safeguarded her secret. The very first reason that came to mind was that it was all part of a plan that people from the Capitol had come up with to trick her out of hiding. Was it because of the way that she had acted in her individual assessment? She kept that thought on the back burner, before quickly turning to other possibilities. There was another explanation for everything. One that she considered absolutely crazy, and thought had arose more from wishful thinking than logical analysis. Just as she was about to delve into it further, a knock on the door caught her attention. “They’re showing the tribute scores. Come on out” Henry called out from the other side of the door.

Kara walked straight to the plush sofa placed in the common area and sat, wordlessly next to Effie, who was still sending angry looks her way, however, was looking more worried than furious. When she had described the events of her individual assessment, Effie had all but gasped dramatically. She had berated her on her actions and ‘bad manners’ and would’ve talked her ear off, if it weren’t for Henry, who stepped in and told her, despite the many protests from her presenter, that she had done a wonderful job.

Kara and James, accompanied by their entire team, sat quietly, awaiting their scores. Claudius Templesmith slowly (and theatrically) read out the tribute scores one-by-one, starting from the boy from District 1, who had received a 9. Other scores followed, as Kara quickly made note of how all Career tributes had scored a nine or above. (She especially noted that both tributes from 2 had scored an 11). By the time they reached their own district, Kara realized that she was more nervous now than ever. Finally, Claudius announced, “District 12. James Olsen. 9”. Cheers worked their way across the room as everyone on the twelfth floor of the Tribute centred exclaimed with joy. Kara was quite happy herself, right until the words “and finally, District 12. Kara Zorel” hit her ears.

Claudius paused for a moment, for dramatic effect, before smiling and saying, “11”

The cheers were louder now, the loudest one being from Effie, who cheered a little more because of relief than anything else. Henry smiled at her while James and Lena congratulated her. Overall, everything seemed great. She actually felt a little joy before suddenly, a realization hit her.

She had used all her strength to grab Mon El’s shoulder when she had asked him about the necklace.

The memory hit her out of nowhere, as she remembered how she had been so caught up with the thought of her mother’s necklace, that she hadn’t restrained the amount of force that she had used when grabbing his shoulder to turn him around and face her. She had used all of her strength. 

“I’m gonna go get some air” she said abruptly, before sheepishly adding, “I’ve been nervous all day”

Outside, she breathed the cool night air, hoping to end the chaos in her head. She looked at the busy Capitol below her, where people seemed to be in a constant state of celebration. Instinctively, her eyes travelled to the second floor balcony.

Sure enough he was there.

When he looked up and saw her, he stared at her with a strange look. It was enough to bring all the frustration that she had felt earlier about him, back to her mind, as she stared back, angrily. ‘How crazy’ she scolded herself. She finally concluded that the Career from 2 was simply manipulating her, and for a second, she had let him. She had almost believed (or hoped, she wasn’t sure) that there was an alien on this world, apart from herself. Crazy, simply crazy. She had almost decided to look away, when he broke eye-contact with her and closed his eyes.

When he opened them, Kara felt as though she could no longer breathe. She stared at him, willing herself to wake up from whatever dream this was. It had to be a dream. Because she saw his eyes shine brightly, as though they were luminous orbs. Electricity seemed to be running through his pupils. He blinked a few times and just as quickly as they had shone, his eyes quickly turned back to normal. 

Mon El observed her reaction, closely. Just like he had expected, she appeared shocked. She stood rooted to her spot, wide-eyed, as she continued to stare, frozen by what she had seen. But she wasn’t startled. Mon El observed, how she wasn’t afraid of what she had just seen. It told her a great many things about Kara Zorel.

As he turned to walk back inside, he felt his lips curving into the tiniest of smiles. Because, after having observed her reaction, he felt like he finally knew the truth. He felt relieved, as he thought to himself,

He was sure now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They met and sparks flew...  
Granted the sparks were because of metal clanging as they fought each other to the death, but hey, at least there were sparks!  
Now that they've officially met, let's see what happens next!  
(I'm sorry this is such a bad end note. I guess I've temporarily lost my ability to join words together, due to how many words this chapter contains!!)  
Also, the final scene where Mon El's eyes shine, is inspired from Kara's own ability to do so, in the show (honourable mention: 3x07!!) So, if it's not clear, he actually, very safely, revealed to her that he's an alien!  
So, yay!  
Until Next Time!


	13. Perceptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If he were an alien, which, Kara was now beginning to consider that possibility, then it was quite possible that he had landed on Earth under circumstances that matched her own. He too may have faced the death of his planet, just like her and in the hope of survival, may have landed in this hell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MELWOOD posted a picture from their wedding...  
DID THEY JUST DO THAT?!!!

“Good luck”

Samantha Arias turned to Mon El, right as Caesar Flickerman’s “Welcome to the 74th Annual Hunger Games!” boomed across the speaker in the District 2 prep room. Up until that moment, Mon El had been paying attention to the Holo screen that broadcasted the entire show. Sam’s words, however, snapped him back to reality, as he quickly realized how he must’ve appeared to her, with his eyes glued to the Holo.

Nervous.

He hadn’t realized that he had been lost in thought, yet again. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, that ever since the previous night, Mon El had been a little distant. Even his mentor had noticed the slight (almost imperceptible) change in his behaviour, for his answers to Wells’s questions had become even more vague than usual. Sam had attributed it to anxiety, as the day of the actual Games approached nearer. Even their mentors had begun feeling similarly. She felt smug, finding out that her seemingly deceptive ally, had a tell. 

Unbeknownst to her, he felt the same way. Because, while it was true that Mon El had been preoccupied with his thoughts, the reason behind it, wasn’t remotely related to nerves. On the contrary, for the first time in he couldn’t even remember how long, Mon El felt fine. The reason, he thought, was fairly obvious.

Because for the first time, since he crashed on Earth, he was entertaining the possibility, that he was not alone.

As soon as he had bid farewell to the obnoxious alien from 12, Mon El had quietly walked towards his room, announcing to his team that he was retiring for the night. He had then proceeded to lock the door and play out what he planned to do next about the situation at hand. The very idea that he had found a _ foreign _ being like himself was quite bizarre. To add to that, she was a part of the Games, much like himself. It meant that in a day’s time, he would be seeing, possibly even fighting her in the arena. Or perhaps she would want to form an alliance with him. 

Mon El wasn’t so sure of the last possibility, for he had no idea about the origins of the alien from 12. All he knew about her was that she was strong and her eyes could glow (he had concluded it based on her reaction on the terrace). At that moment, he was reminded of the glyph on her costume in the Tribute parade. Perhaps she understood the symbol, just like him. Which would then make her a Daxamite like him, who understood some Kryptonian? Or perhaps she was a Kryptonian (given her stubborn and stand-offish behaviour in the lunch room, he found it quite possible)

Ultimately, he had decided that there were way too many unknowns in the equation. The one thing that he did know, however, was that he had to ensure that he couldn’t mention the revelations about the female tribute from District 12 to anyone. He had to keep everything a secret. This, he knew, would be quite difficult, considering how he had been continuously thinking about her, ever since lunch. So he had decided to appear aloof instead. If things went according to plan, his team would associate his strange behaviour with fear of the Games and anxiety.

Sam’s face told him that things were indeed on the right track. Therefore, ignoring her sarcasm-filled words, he continued to watch the Holo-broadcast.

* * *

Caesar welcomed the audience enthusiastically, as the theme music of his show, blared in the background, doing little to drown out the loud cheers of the audience. The excitement in the atmosphere was absolutely electrifying, as everyone applauded the arrival of their host, marking the beginning of the second-most awaited event of the year. The sheer magnitude of the crowd, coupled with the madness that only the Games could bring about in the citizens of the Capitol, was more than enough to overwhelm any host. But Caesar Flickerman was a veteran entertainer. He had more than two decades of experience anchoring an event as colossal as this one.

He smiled widely and waved towards the stands. “What a night!” he exclaimed, as the cheers began dying down a little. “What a night to look forward to. To think that we’ve been meeting here like this for seventy four years, oh my! And I’ve been here for quite a long time myself. I don’t look that old though, do I?” He laughed heartily, as the audience collectively responded with an overdramatic ‘no!'. “Oh well,” he continued. “I’ve been here long enough to know that every year, the excitement only grows exponentially. And a major cause for it is you all. So before we begin, let’s hear it for the best spectators in all of Panem!”

A round of cheers and applause later, Caesar continued working the audience for some time, amusing them with witty one-liners and pleasantries, before he was informed on his earpiece, that his first tribute was ready. Swiftly, he took charge of the laughing audience, as he said, “Now folks, I think it’s time we finally call out some people that we’re all eager to get to know. What do you say we bring out the tributes for the 74th Annual Hunger Games?!” At that moment, the loud cheers returned, as the audience roared in encouragement. “Our first tribute, is a girl from District 1. And her name is Grace”. He gestured to the far left side of the stage before announcing, “Let’s see if she graces us with her presence. Please welcome, Grace Parker”

The female tribute from 1 was welcomed with applause. She wore an exquisite, black gown, that moved with her, smoothly, as she walked swiftly towards the centre of the stage. On top, she wore a short white jacket with a small collar. Overall, her look screamed elegance. She maintained her poise, as she settled down on the plush white chair and smiled, calmly at Caesar. Unlike most tributes who were shoved into the sparkling limelight of the Hunger Games, and made to present themselves in front of such a large audience for the first time, she seemed quite collected. However, her competent look, along with the confidence that lurked in her eyes, was obvious to her interviewer, for he had seen the same in Careers that had been a part of the Games over the years.

“So, Grace” Caesar began. “How are you feeling right now?”

“I’ve never felt so happy in my entire life,” she answered with a porcelain smile. “It’s a dream come true.”

“Indeed it is. Now, you obviously volunteered for the Games. Tell me, what was that like?”

“When I was a little girl, I would watch young men and women boldly step up to the responsibility of making our District proud. I was always in awe of how strong they were. I could never imagine what it must be like to feel so powerful. Only when I stepped onto that stage and looked at all the people from my District cheering me on, did I finally understand what true power felt like. And it was amazing. I felt incredible. Like I could do whatever I wanted.”

“Well,” Caesar raised his brows. “Looks like someone’s developed a bit of a God complex!” he joked, earning a hearty laugh from both the audience, and himself.

“Not a God complex, Caesar” she smiled, indifferently. “It’s actually much more simple. When I step into the arena, I get to decide who dies. I get to choose my life over everyone else’s. In less than a day, I will get to fulfill my purpose. So, the way I see it, it’s pretty straightforward. When I’m in the arena, I am a God.”

This earned her a round of applause, as the audience gasped dramatically at first, but then cheered her on. Caesar himself seemed impressed by how chillingly honest the girl in front of him had managed to sound. He observed the encouraging response that she received from the audience, and realized that his work here was done. As the host of the Tribute interviews, it was his job to ensure that by the end of the program, every tribute was remembered by the people. He had to make the citizens of Panem interested in each tribute. While it was difficult for most participants, those like Grace, who had a personality, and seemed quite prepared for all of it, were quite easy to sell to the audience. It was why Caesar enjoyed interviewing the Careers, but knew that they simply didn’t pose a challenge for him. It wasn’t his job to make a desirable person seem even more so. He just had to guarantee that the tributes were well received.

He knew that the bold words of Grace Parker from District 1 were more than enough for her to become a favourite amongst the public. 

He thus brought their conversation to an end with some promising remarks, before helping her climb down the platform at the centre of the stage and sending her away from the opposite side of where she had entered from. He then proceeded to call forth the male tribute from 1, and noticed that the cheers, while loud, were slightly faded in comparison to those that were heard for Grace. He noticed in his interview as well, that the confidence that the boy attempted to show off, fell short and couldn’t live up to expectations. As a result, Caesar quickly took charge and focussed more on the qualities of the boy that made him different from his female counterpart. He talked the boy up to his audience and helped him win their support. By the end, although the cheers were louder than before, Caesar knew which District 1 tribute was the more favoured one.

“Next up, is the tribute from District 2” Caesar said, arousing anticipation in the audience. “After the stellar response that they got in the Tribute parade, I can’t help but be excited to get to know our next guest. Please join me in welcoming the female tribute from District 2, Samantha Arias.”

The noise was astounding. 

Caesar had known, right from the Chariot ceremony, that there was something about the tributes from 2, this year, that set them apart from everyone else. His belief was only strengthened, as Sam briskly walked onto the stage. The very first thing he noticed, was how, in contrast to every female tribute, Sam was wearing pants, instead of a gown. Her outfit consisted of simple, black pants and a silk, black blouse. On top, she wore a sleek, purple coat that appeared short from the front, extending to her waist, but flowed down her back, all the way to her knees, appearing almost like a cape. Her look was simple, yet she appeared authoritative. Caesar, like the crowd, was impressed.

Once she settled down in her seat, she smiled at the audience with rehearsed confidence. Unlike most, who, Caesar thought, would have been delighted to see the overwhelming support that they were receiving, Sam didn’t waste much time relishing the view of the crowd cheering her on. Instead, she swiftly looked back to him, expectantly, patiently waiting for his questions to begin.

‘Straight to business, I see’ he thought, as he said “Oh my my! Samantha Arias, what have you done?! If the people here shout any louder, the lights above us might shatter!” He noticed as the crowd quietened down just a bit, and laughed instead on his joke. He quickly used the opportunity of the few seconds of almost-silence that he received, to begin the interview. “Now, right from the reaping, we’ve all been observing how confident you are about winning. I think I speak for everyone when I say that you seem pretty sure that you’re gonna win. So what I wanna know, is what is your purpose? What gives you the motivation to fight? What drives you?”

Sam considered the question for a couple of seconds, before she gave Caesar a pleasant smile and replied by simply saying, “Because I want to win.” Caesar seemed a little discontented with her answer, but before he could ask further, she continued. “I don’t know what to tell you Caesar” she said. “I know you’re probably expecting there to be this infallible ambition that motivates me to want to win the Games but it’s not that. I don’t have the innate desire to make my District proud. And I’m certainly not after glory. I consider them distractions. So there’s no emotional backstory that happened in my childhood and caused me to volunteer,” she said, pointedly, referring to what she considered utter nonsense from the District 1 female tribute.

“The only reason that I volunteered that day, why I’m here, is because I know that I’m the best fighter in my District, and possibly all of Panem. And after I’m done in the arena, everyone else will know it too. I take the Games at face value. At the end of the day, their a contest. And I’m here to win. So, to answer your question, this is what drives me. The reason that I’m so confident about winning, is because I want to win.”

Once she was done, everyone remained silent, as though quietly considering her words. Then, without warning, a thunderous applause took over, as the crowd now cheered Sam even more enthusiastically than before. Caesar simply looked at her and smiled. “Well, that’s definitely how a winner talks” he said with a broad smile, before announcing her name one last time, thereby concluding their interview.

It took another few seconds to calm the raging audience, before he said, “And now, we call upon the stage, the other half of the District 2 warriors.” In the audience stands, Thea smiled, knowingly, happy that Caesar had remembered her request of calling the tributes of 2 ‘fighters’ staying true to the theme that she had designed for them. “Please welcome on stage, Mon El Roqford.”

For the second time in all of his career, Caesar was taken aback by how loudly the audience cheered for a tribute. Mon El swiftly walked across the stage, with the constant noise of the wild audience filling up his ears, to the point that for a fraction of a second he couldn’t control his expressions and let some of the pain show on his face. “I know they’re damn loud, aren’t they?!” Caesar asked, jokingly upon noticing the look of pain on him. Mon El simply smiled, willing himself to shake it off.

After a few minutes, when the cheers died down, Caesar quickly began, “Before anything, allow me to say that this year, District 2 has one hell of a stylist. You look amazing!” Mon El accepted the compliment with a smile, as he recalled his designer’s words from before. “It’s simplicity itself!” Thea had exclaimed, showing off his suit for the interview. “After dazzling the crowd with the nanotech costumes from the parade, I want the audience to see you for who you really are. So your interview suits had to be as simple as possible. Nothing to distract them from the brilliant warriors that you are.”

Hence, Mon El wore a simple, yet immaculately tailored black formal suit with a dark purple blazer. It was also why, despite his many protests, Thea had asked (forced) him to wear his necklace on top of his clothes, instead of tucking it away, like he usually did. Nothing, yet everything was extraordinary about his look, as even with a plain attire, he managed to look, in Caesar’s words, remarkable. 

After the fascinating answer that Sam had given him, Caesar was all but curious about what Mon El had to say about himself. “Now, I’m gonna be honest with you Mon El, the response that your chariot received at the Tribute ceremony was incredible. I mean that suit! Oh my gosh, it was something else! What were your thoughts when you saw it for the first time?”

“I was very still. I was hoping the nanobots wouldn’t eat me alive!”

The audience laughed at this, while Caesar took note of how charming the male tribute from 2 could be. Both Caesar and Mon El went back and forth, entertaining the audience with their captivating banter. Words seemed to flow effortlessly between the two. What truly impressed Caesar, however, was how Mon El maintained a mysterious aura about each one of his answers. No matter what they talked about, he didn’t let his responses give away too much. Thus, hoping to dig a little deeper in his mind, Caesar asked his final question.

“Now, I can’t help but notice a beautiful crystal that you’re wearing around your neck.” At the mention of his necklace, Mon El tensed up, ever so lightly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s your personal effect, isn’t it?” Caesar asked.

Mon El nodded, but didn’t say anything else on the matter, causing Caesar to continue with his interrogation. “That’s quite an exquisite crystal, I must say.” But before he could ask about its origin, an internally panicked Mon El interrupted him, by quickly saying, “My sister gave it to me on the day of the reaping.” With that, he steered the conversation away from the source of the necklace, and turned everyone’s attention, instead, on the emotional aspect behind it. 

“What did you say to her, when she gave you that?” Caesar asked, with sombre eyes. 

Realizing that his emotion ploy worked, Mon El continued, “I know what it’s like to lose my world.” (He had no way of knowing that behind him, in the District 12 prep room, the female tribute from 12, raised her eyes in shock and disbelief.) He continued, as he said, “I lost my father a couple of years ago and, my world hasn’t been the same. So when I saw my sister for the last time, I promised myself that I would never lose my world again. That I would fight to survive. That I would win, so that I can go home to my family, my world.”

Mon El felt that the small amount of truth that he included, was what really sold his story, as his enhanced hearing incredulously registered a few audience members actually sobbing. He turned to look that Caesar too had forlorn eyes. Mon El couldn't believe how easy it was to trick the people of the Capitol.

“And win you shall," Caesar concluded, before turning to the audience as they showered them with a round of applause, somehow louder than before. Mon El firmly shook hands with Caesar before walking away as fast as he could, away from the torturous noise that remained in his ears even after the ceremony ended.

* * *

Kara tapped her fingers on her knees, impatiently, as she waited for the boy from 11 to finish up with his interview. She hated how she felt in that moment. Part of her was nervous about being the centre of attention, yet again, only this time, she would actually have to partake in a conversation. ‘A _ likable _ conversation,' a voice in her head reminded her, as she imagined burning the voice with her laser vision. The other thing that gnawed at her mind, were the events from the previous night. 

She had spent the entire night repeatedly going over all the things that she had learnt about the boy (alien) from 2. She had analyzed and over-analyzed every detail, which had filled her mind with the conflicting feelings of hope and suspicion. Ultimately, not being able to think properly anymore, she had surrendered to a troubled sleep.

Therefore, as she saw the telecast begin, she had her eyes involuntarily set to the Holo. To her team, she was simply nervous about her own interview. But in reality, she was anxiously awaiting the District 2 segment.

That didn't stop her from observing the responses of the other tributes that came before him. She paid close attention to the replies of the tributes from 1. As she considered their words, she almost felt sorry for the way that their District raised them, teaching them that there was actual glory and pride to be achieved in claiming innocent lives. She simply couldn't digest the concept. Then there was the girl from 2. Her answers told Kara that she had judged her quite accurately. She was a fighter, who considered the Games as a pageant to be won. Just like normal competitions, the Games too had winners and losers. Kara commended the concept of not getting emotionally involved, as to the girl from 2, this was a simple contest that she was participating in, and wished to win. Nothing more, nothing less. Kara was deep in thought regarding this perception, when

‘Please welcome on stage, Mon El Roqford!' Caesar's voice struck her ears and just like that, she zeroed down on the sound of the Holo, ignoring all the bustle around her. 

The first thing she noticed was his eyes. She noticed how his expressions resembled those that he had on the day of the reaping. Unlike the three tributes that had finished their interviews before him, he had no malice in his eyes. As he walked across the stage, Kara observed him with sorrowful eyes. If he were an alien, which, Kara was now beginning to consider that possibility, then it was quite possible that he had landed on Earth under circumstances that matched her own. He too may have faced the death of his planet, just like her and in the hope of survival, may have landed in this hell. As he sat across from Caesar, all Kara could see, was a man who was as _ foreign _ to this planet as she was. Someone who made her feel less alone.

That was until he opened his mouth and actually began laughing with Caesar.

Kara watched, with wide eyes, as he playfully chatted with Caesar about countless things, behaving as though he wasn’t actually going to be a part of a death-match in less than a day. He casually deceived the entire audience with his charming anecdotes and witty comments. Just like that, all the anger that she had felt about him came rushing back. All the sympathy that she felt mere seconds ago was lost in a cloud of frustration instead. She was right about him. He may be an alien, that was still possible. But he was in no way like her. He was a Career. A manipulative tribute who considered killing innocent people, a worthy deed, as it meant his victory and _ glory _ in the stupid Games.

She was about to turn away, when Caesar mentioned the necklace. Kara held her breath as she waited for his response. Would he tell him that the female tribute from 12 actually seemed quite interested in the necklace? Or worse, would he out her secret? Would he report her to Caesar in public, for all of Panem to see? She knew that her Earth-parents would be watching anxiously. What would happen to them if he decided to out her secret?

But he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he changed the topic entirely, successfully managing to bring people’s attention to his own sob story instead. He didn’t let anyone ask more about the necklace. In a way, he protected both their identities. Or was it just because he wanted to gain sympathy from the audience?

Irritatedly, Kara looked away as Mon El’s session came to an end. As she turned, the sight of James getting ready pulled her back to reality, as it reminded her of her own mission.

As she watched him getting ready in a light blue suit, she noticed how pastel shades were used for his costume. It was an attempt to make him appear friendly. Not unlike him, she too was given a pastel blue dress. Her hair was left loose, her blond curls draping her shoulders. On her left sleeve, her personal effect, the pin of hope was affixed neatly. Mere minutes were spent on her makeup, but the same was not true for James, as he could use all the help he could get, to appear cordial. 

All the help. 

She quickly turned yet again to the Holo, pushing away thoughts about Mon El, and focussed on preparing mental notes about the tributes that followed.

Both tributes from 3 seemed like amateurs compared to the Careers before them. Kara knew instantly that they lacked quite a few factors that were needed to survive in the arena. As harsh as it may have sounded, she declared that both of them wouldn’t last for long in the arena. She couldn’t say the same, however, about the tributes from 4. Especially the female tribute, Julia Freeman. The deceptively calm way in which she talked to Caesar made Kara realize that she was actually scared of this woman. She was the same Career that had caused her to lose focus and let go of her anger, thereby crushing a steel spear and almost giving away her identity. Kara quickly noted that she had to be wary of her. The following tributes paled in comparison to the Careers, in both personality and audience response. Kara watched, remorsefully, as she realized how most of the tributes that she now saw in front of her, would soon be dead. She noticed a Zack Jones from District 8 who was only thirteen years old. He was the youngest of the tributes this year. Same was the case for Rue Stenberg from District 11. She was lost in thought about the young girl, when someone called her from the back.

“It’s time,” Lena said, as she led her out near the entrance of the side stage. 

All at once, Kara felt nervous again. She realized that she needed to go out on the stage and make the people that she simply despised at this point, like her. She felt James standing next to her as he said, “Don’t be afraid.” She turned to him and smiled, “You too” she replied. Just then Caesar’s voice rang in her ears.

“Please welcome Kara Zorel, or how her team insists on calling her, Supergirl!”

Kara squinted as she was faced with numerous lights just as she stepped on the stage. The second thing she registered was the terrible assault on her ears, as the audience clapped and cheered her name, as loudly as she had ever heard. Somehow managing to spot Caesar in all the ruckus, she all but staggered onto the stage and gratefully accepted Caesar’s hand as he helped her onto her seat. The lights, the sound, it was all too much for her. She looked at Caesar and noticed that his lips were moving, indicating that he was saying something to her. She tried her best, but simply could not understand.

“What?” she asked, dumbly, as she zeroed down on his voice and noticed the audience was laughing.

After a smile, Caesar said, “I said, that was quite an entrance you made at the Parade that day. What can you tell us about that?”

Kara considered her response, before answering truthfully and sincerely, “I was trying my level best not to fall.”

Without meaning to, she had caused an uproar in the audience, as they laughed at her ‘hilarious joke’

Caesar was laughing too. He smiled for a bit, before making his tone a little more serious and asking her, curiously, “Now your personal effect. It’s the symbol of the Science District of Panem, isn’t it?”

At that moment, Kara didn’t know what took over her exactly, but she quickly thought of a different than normal response. “Yes, but it’s much more than that. My friend gave me this pin when I was in a rough place. She told me that it would give me hope whenever I needed it the most. On the day of the reaping, my mother gave it to me. At that moment, I finally realized what it meant to me. For me and my family, this is much more than just a symbol for Science. It stands for hope.”

Kara looked at the sympathy on Caesar’s face. She then noticed the audience, as they seemed to have gone into a motivational trance by her short speech. She laughed, internally, as she thought to herself how none of these people had any idea about what she was truly talking about. (Perhaps one man understood…)

Kara was broken out of her thoughts, as Caesar grabbed her hand and brought her onto her feet. He then raised Kara’s hand as he said, “Give it up for Supergirl!” The crowd roared, yet again, causing her to almost lose her balance, as she fought the instinct of bringing her hands up to her ears and covering them from the harsh noise. In the end, however, she managed to get off the stage gracefully.

Everything that followed included a number of hugs and congratulations. She did her best so as not to appear stand-offish to her prep team, before she quickly turned her attention to James’s interview, as he was called onto the stage as ‘Guardian' (that was the name he had been given). James had planned to use the emotional story of his brother and family to gain the support of the audience. To Kara’s relief, the plan was an utter success, as by the end of his interview with Caesar, the cheers were quite loud.

* * *

Overall, it was a successful day. Kara quietly sat in her room, looking at the beautiful city from her window. She was amazed at how busy everything appeared even at hours as late as midnight. She was astounded that people still hadn’t slept, before quickly realizing that she was awake herself.

A tired voice in her head told her that she had her reasons. 

To begin with, in the hours to come, she was going to enter an arena for a game of survival. To add to that, she had no intentions of returning, alive. Instead, she had to spend her time in this forsaken arena trying her level best to save an innocent life by ensuring the deaths of several others. To add to that, she had to do so by hiding her powers from the Capitol, who will be watching her every move.

And then there was the alien in the arena, apart from herself. Kara still had conflicted opinions about him. She still didn’t know if she could trust him. How could she? If she were planning to enter a murder-contest with him, with only one survivor. Perhaps it was for the best that she had ignored him throughout the week. It would be good for both of them, if neither knew much about each other. Because, although he knew she wasn’t of this world, he didn’t know much else, right? Just then, as if on cue, her super-hearing picked up on something, and it left her shocked.

It wasn’t so much Mon El’s voice that stunned her, but the words that he had uttered, that did the trick. 

“Nah Jivhet” he had said.

It told Kara two things. First, that he knew she had super-hearing, and second, he knew that she was Kryptonian. She knew the latter because of the Kryptonian translation of his words.

They meant “Good Luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is extremely late, as I am uploading this chapter. But I made it! So, won't say much except maybe,  
"Nah Jivhet" for everything that follows!  
Until Next Time!
> 
> P.S.: MELWOOD are adorkable puppies!


	14. Up, up and Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Be the survivor that you were always meant to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotions anyone?!

She kept running.

Faster than Kara had ever run before. Something warned her about how she was exposing her powers, as the scenery around her passed by in a blur of colours. But hiding her powers didn't matter anymore. Nothing did. The only thing that she needed to focus on now, was getting as far away from this situation as possible.

Because they knew. Everyone knew.

As she super-sped through the maze-like streets of the Capitol, her mind went back to the events that had led to her current predicament. She didn’t know how, but she had managed to miraculously escape the security of the Tribute centre unharmed. A cacophony of alarms and footsteps had followed her, as numerous peacekeepers had materialized out of nowhere and had begun running after her. Only a few moments had passed, before they started shooting at her with bright green bullets. She had realized that they were attacking her with kryptonite, only when she had seen a bullet pass a few inches away from her ear and shatter the glass walls of a Capitol building.

Terrified to her core, she willed herself to figure a way out of this nightmare. She had hoped that her super-speed would be enough to outrun the Capitol security, but somehow it hadn’t worked, as the peacekeepers following her were only a few steps behind. She contemplated flying away, but when she looked up, she found multiple helicarriers spanning all across the sky, some even shooting at her. She felt tears blurring her vision, but shook them away. As much as she was afraid, she knew that she couldn’t give up just yet. After all the years that her Earth-parents had spent protecting her, and risking their own lives in the process, she couldn’t just give up right away. 

She realized that she had to fight back.

With that thought, she stopped running and waited for the army to catch up. Balling her fist, she steadied her breathing and took note of her racing heart. “Stop! Don’t move alien!” she heard a peacekeeper shouting from behind and sensed his footsteps approaching her. She waited until the man was close enough, before all of a sudden, she turned around to face her attacker and punched him with all her strength. 

Her wrist connected with his, as tremors passed through the ground that surrounded them. With the amount of strength that she had used, Kara had expected to take down not only the one peacekeeper in front of her, but also the entire army that was standing behind him. But to her utter shock, the man remained unfazed. Instead, he had retaliated with a force Kara incredulously realized was an equal to her own strength. Unable to process what had happened, her eyes were fixed on his fist, that should have been shattered. That was when she noticed the distinct lack of a white glove on his hand, which was part of the standard peacekeeper uniform. It told her that her attacker was not a peacekeeper. Alarmed by the situation, fear started to fill her nerves, as she slowly looked up to see who the man was. That was when she found the stormy grey eyes of the male tribute from District 2 staring back at her.

She woke up with a start.

Gasping for breath, Kara sat up in her bed and hurriedly took note of her surroundings. She stared at the walls and windows of her room for the longest time before reality set in and she finally began to calm down. Her racing heart was accompanied with tears in her eyes as she tried her level best to calm the turmoil that her nightmare had managed to stir up within her. Having spent years on Earth, having to protect her identity for survival, Kara was no stranger to nightmares. But never had she felt as afraid, as she did in that moment.

Because before now, almost every dream of hers had a flaw; something unrealistic that would never happen were it not for the realms of deep sleep. A moment, that helped her separate fiction from reality. It would act like an anchor for her to hold on to, convincing herself that none of what she saw in her troubled sleep was real. Now however, things were different. Because as she replayed everything in her head, she realized that there was not a single moment in her nightmare that was too exaggerated to be called real. Right from the fleet of guards attacking her to the final moment when she was caught, everything seemed much too plausible to be devalued right away.

Had she been in the safe environment of home, the logical side of her mind would’ve argued, about how it seemed far-fetched that an army of human peacekeepers was able to catch up to her super-speed, for she would’ve thought about how she was the fastest woman on the planet. Now however, even that reasoning failed her, as she thought about the alien from District 2, and how it was entirely possible that he could help the Capitol take her down, if he wanted to. 

The other thing that was a stark contrast to her current situation, was that back in 12, if she were to wake up from such a nightmare, she would not have had to deal with the anxiety of everything, all by herself. Her loving Earth-parents would’ve been by her side. Her Earth-mother Alura would have embraced her and with her reassuring words full of wisdom, encouraged her to be brave. Her father would have inspired her to move forward. Eve, her best friend on this planet, although she didn’t know her secret, would’ve been by her side and made her smile.

Now, as Kara sat in her room, on the twelfth floor of the Tribute building of the Capitol, remembering all the time that she had spent with her wonderful family on Terra, she realized just how alone she was.

A teardrop that fell on her hand broke her out of her reverie and pulled her back to reality. As she focussed her blurry vision on the window in front of her, she saw the Capitol below her, crowded beyond imagine. Numerous groups of people rallied across the streets, cheering as loudly as the could. Kara tuned in to the sound, afraid that her fears might be coming true, but understood instead, that a parade was taking place in front of the Tribute Centre. That was when she realized what today was.

‘ _ Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever in your favour. _ ’

The sound of the common room Holo reached Kara’s ears. In that moment, her hardened resolve returned, as emotions left her mind. She wiped away her tears and got up, banishing her feelings and focussing on her mission. She reminded herself that she was not in 12 anymore. She was in the Capitol, a few hours away from participating in a contest that would cause the deaths of twenty-three innocent lives, allowing a sole person to return home. While she couldn’t intervene for tributes from the other Districts, she could do everything in her power to save just one human that came with her. She had a mission to focus on. Over the years, she had battled the guilt of leaving her people on Krypton to die. That had only worsened with time, as she had seen countless people around her dying in the Games. But now, she finally had a chance to do good. Over the next few days in the arena, she would protect James for as long as she could. Rather than thinking about returning home, herself, she would focus on ensuring that a powerless human would get a chance at life instead. For that, emotions were a luxury she could no longer afford. Soon enough, District 12, just like Krypton, would exist as nothing more than a fond memory.

With that, she quickly made her way out to carry out the final part of her plan before entering the arena. She walked towards the common area to talk to the one person who could help her fulfill her mission.

Henry Allen had his eyes fixed on the Holo-screen, as he thoroughly read through the Tribute ratings. Based on factors such as audience preference and individual assessment scores, all tributes were given daily ratings, that were a direct indication to their chances of winning, The final ranks were displayed in terms of each tribute’s ‘odds of survival’. Henry was pleased, as he saw that unlike previous years, the tributes of his District had actually managed to secure a decent footing in the competition. He was even happier to find out that his female tribute had managed to score quite high, even surpassing a Career tribute. He was eyeing the Career leaderboard when he noticed someone walking towards him from the far corridor.

“Good morning” he greeted Kara with a short but warm smile. He knew exactly how nervous one could be on the day of the Games and therefore wanted to ensure that he could maintain a reassuring atmosphere for his tributes for as long as possible.

Kara however, did not return the cordiality. Instead, she looked at her mentor sternly. “We need to talk,” she said in a serious voice, her tone giving away the slight urgency behind her words, causing Henry’s smile to transform into a frown. He watched her sit in opposite him at the breakfast table, before she said, “It's about James."

Uncertain about her exact thoughts, he looked at her with knitted brows. He observed as she considered her exact words before she spoke up. 

“When we're in the arena, we won't have access to sponsor information" Kara began. “You'll be in-charge of that. Which means that you will be in-charge of sending through some major sponsored items, ones that could save our lives." She paused for a moment, before continuing, “Now I happen to know that stuff like that is expensive. When it comes down to it, you won't be able to help both of us. Not for long."

Still unsure of where she was going with it (although he felt like he could guess now), Henry listened silently, as she looked him straight in the eyes and continued, “So in the end, when the moment comes where you have to choose between me and James, I want you to choose him."

Her statement caught him off-guard. He was surprised at her astonishing request. Usually, when tributes, strong enough to achieve remarkable scores in individual assessment, realized that their mentor had to pick between both the tributes from their District, they rushed to their coaches to convince them to choose them. Never had a tribute asked otherwise. He looked at her in silence, as he processed her words. After a few seconds went by in silence, he turned to her and said, “I'm sorry, but I can't do that.”

Kara remained unaffected by his words. She realized that her suspicion had indeed been true, for her mentor had planned to save her. Unfortunately for him, Kara was a Kryptonian. Taking no for an answer simply wasn't in her stubborn nature. 

“He deserves to survive. Don't you think that?" She asked.

“No one deserves to die in the Games" Henry replied without missing a beat. “Unfortunately, as a mentor, I can't think along those terms. So it's not about who deserves to win, because you both do, equally. It's about who has the most chances of winning."

“Chances of winning depend on the help we get. It won't matter if a tribute is strong or weak, if they can get maximum assistance from their mentor. And as for deserving to go home, I volunteered to be her. James had no choice. Clearly he deserves to win, more than I do."

Kara could see Henry was still against the idea, but as he remained silent, she continued. “Sponsor-wise James brings a lot to the table. You know how easily these people are attracted to an emotional back-story. I don't have that. I'm just a girl that flew in the chariot parade because my designer had a smart concept. There's nothing to remember me by, other than that. But for James, he brought about sympathy during his interview. People don't forget that as easily."

Kara drew in a deep breath, before revealing her final thoughts to Henry. “Look, the main reason that I want you to help him from here is because that's exactly what I'm going to do from inside the arena." She noticed how Henry was startled by the revelation, but continued. “I'm gonna help him win. And the only way I can fully ensure his victory, is if you help me do that."

Once she was done, a few moments passed by in silence, as Kara studied Henry's face, while he thought about his decisions. While it was true that Kara could easily survive some of the harshest conditions on Terra without the help of sponsors, she knew that the same couldn't be said about a human from District 12. James already had anger issues and minimal survival skills. She could help him get through most of the obstacles in the arena, but in dire situations, he had to rely on outside help. 

Kara could tell how Henry was battling with himself, internally. Until this moment, he had very clearly considered Kara as his victor. But seeing her unyielding nature, he was forced to think things through. 

“Alright" he said, his voice and expressions giving away just how upset he was, very clearly. “I'll make you a deal. I will help him from out here. I will do everything I can to save him." His choice of words made Kara realize, anxiously, that before now, Henry had no intention of helping the male tribute at all. “But on one condition," he broke her train of thought short. “I'll help him only if you promise you won't do anything stupid in the arena." With that, he looked at her straight in the eyes, a warning look on his face. 

Kara knew exactly what he meant. He was asking her not to go out of her way to save James inside the arena and she instantly understood why. Henry had been rooting for her victory. He didn’t want her to risk her life on a  _ lost cause _ .

Kara didn’t blame Henry for thinking in such a way. She completely understood his predicament, for it was perhaps one of the most difficult spots that one could be put in. Leading people from your own District into the Games and not being able to bring them back alive was never easy. She considered her mentor a decent man stuck in a terrible situation. Much like Mayor Tessmacher, he had to wholeheartedly participate in the Games. It was either that, or giving up entirely, thereby letting his tributes battle the fears of the Games all by themselves. Kara considered James and her extremely fortunate that Henry hadn’t gone with the latter.

“It’s a deal” she said, just as James entered the room.

* * *

“Thank you. For everything.” Mon El said tersely to his mentor, as they stood in the elevator that rapidly descended along the Tribute Centre. 

Morning on the District 2 floor had gone by as per usual, with the only difference being that Mon El and Sam, along with their mentors had had breakfast together instead. Unlike other days, the mentors were neither secretive nor selective, and shared their pointers with both tributes. The strategies that were passed back and forth were general ones and meant to help both tributes equally. This had continued all throughout breakfast until Don Silvester, the District 2 presenter, had interrupted their gathering with the words “Let’s go.” With that, both tributes had gone to their own rooms and emerged about two minutes later, wearing identical clothes. After that, it was decided that they would go down the elevator separately with only their own mentors to keep them company, as a chance for any last minute advice. Mon El and Wells were the first to step in.

Until that moment, Mon El had been too busy to think about anything. He had been up long before sunrise and the sound of the Holo in the common room had told him that he hadn’t been the only one. Just as he had opened the door of his bedroom, he had come face-to-face with both his mentors, who had come to retrieve Sam and him for an early-morning session. All thoughts about the girl from 12 and everything that he had learned about her from her interview, left him entirely, as he had spent the next hours discussing nothing but plans of action in the arena. He had listened with utmost focus, to everything that his mentors had to tell about, right from the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, to various other things that they were almost guaranteed to encounter within the next few hours. 

Now, as he recalled everything that he had learnt over the course of his training week, he suddenly realized just how much Wells had helped him get by. Although, at first, he had been repulsed by the very idea of a mentor, he could see now that at the end of the day, they were just doing their part in ensuring that tributes like him could live to see another day. It made him think about how Wells had also been a tribute once. How he too had gone through almost all the things that he was going through at the moment. Sure, his mentor may never have been scared to death of the prospect of being discovered as an alien. But that didn’t mean that he had never been afraid otherwise. To add to that, in his in-depth research of the numerous arena-styles used in the Games, over the years, Mon El had realized that Wells was the victor of the 50th Hunger Games, which were also referred to as ‘The Quarter Quell’. Every twenty-five years, the Games were made even more imposing by introducing a small variation (a ‘plot twist’ as Winn called it). For the 50th year of the Games, not two, but four tributes were chosen from each District. That meant that Harrison Wells had been put into a death-match that consisted of forty-seven killers, and had survived it all to emerge victorious. Needless to say, Mon El considered himself extremely fortunate to have him on his team.

Being the enigmatic man that he was (another trait that Mon El had learned from him), Well didn’t react to Mon El’s words right away. Instead, he looked at him and simply smiled, before turning away, and remained quiet. No words were exchanged after that, as the two of them reached the ground floor. As soon as the elevator doors slid open, Mon El stepped out into the lobby, remembering his first encounter with the place, and in turn, the Capitol itself. Wells led him out the main doors and into a steel tunnel that resembled the launch pads back on Daxam. At the end, he saw a helicarrier along with tributes from the other Districts. A few steps from the enormous airship, Wells stopped and simply stood there, ensuring that they weren’t within earshot of the other tributes. Without turning to him, he said to Mon El, “You really wanna thank me? Win this. He then turned to Mon El and looked at him directly in the eyes before giving him his final bit of advice.

“Stay alive.”

As he turned away, Wells finally asked his tribute, “You ready?” 

Mon El, understanding, that Wells would not accompany him in the helicarrier looked up straight ahead and exhaled. With his chin lifted up and his head held high, he replied to his mentor, “Born read” before walking in the direction of the helicarrier and stepping onto the ship.

* * *

Mon El could feel his powers coming back to him, as he heard more than felt the shudder of the airship, indicating that they were about to reach their intended destination. He was glad that unlike last time, he had only barely touched the lead on his necklace when the official had asked for his arm in order to insert his tracker, therefore ensuring that he didn’t have to be weakened for a long time. By the time the doors of the airship hissed open, he was back to normal.

Two peacekeepers led him through a maze-like corridor, and stopped directly in front of a secluded set of doors. He pushed them open, and entered a small room. One look at the entire told him that it resembled a holding area; a temporary cell meant to hold a person or two. Next, he noticed an open tube at the far side of the room. Inside, was a platform, that Mon El guessed to be a moving floor; one that could go up, like an elevator. As he looked up at the ceiling, he suddenly realized.

He was standing directly under the arena.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice when a girl called out to him.

“Hey!” Thea said, right before she cursed herself on being louder than necessary, as she saw how Mon El all but flinched at the sudden sound. As she noticed his spooked gaze, she sheepishly continued, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” A moment of silence passed before he responded with “It’s okay” before walking in to the centre of the room, near where she was standing, and she heaved a sigh of relief, internally. They stayed quiet for quite some time before an announcement, stating the words, “sixty seconds to launch” filled the room. It was at that moment that Thea was suddenly pushed into action, as she walked over to the corner of the room and retrieved a windcheater-like jacket. As she helped Mon El wear it over his black track-suit pullover, Mon El noticed how, just like the cargo pants that he was given, the jacket too was made of a light-weight fabric. 

“The material is a fusion polymer. It’ll reflect body heat and keep you warm when the surrounding temperature drops and if the temperature rises, the fabric has a vent-through system that’ll keep you comfortable. So, based on that, I’d say it’s some place that gets hot and cold. So like a forest, or a desert maybe.” Thea supplied answers to all the questions he had about the suit. He then observed her, as she rambled on, telling him facts about material and other irrelevant information, before the announcement from before interrupted her with “thirty seconds to launch”. She instantly kept quiet, looking at him apologetically for wasting time, while he realized exactly what was going on.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing her attention, “It’s going to be okay”

To this, she looked at him with wide eyes and responded abashedly, “No! I mean, I’m the one who’s supposed to be comforting you, not the other way round! I’m the last person you’ll see before you’re sent into that death-match and I wanted to tell you that you are by far the best tribute that 2 has ever had. I wanted to let you know that working with you was the most wonderful start that my designing career could ever have. And in the end, I wanted to console you and encourage you to be the best fighter in the arena, which I already know that you are. But all I can think of is how this might possibly be the last time that I see you in person. How, you’ll be fighting for your life in there and how I wish I had done more to help you.” I’m sorry this is- I really am sorry for this” she said as tears began to form in her eyes. “Saying goodbye is a lot harder than I thought it would be."

After listening to everything, Mon El finally spoke up. “But you’ve already done so much for me,” he said, as she turned to look at him. “This entire week, you've helped me make a good impression. You ensured that people remember the tributes from 2. The reason I have such a high sponsor list right now, is because of those incredible suits. And most importantly, you gave me something that’s gonna help me a lot in the arena.”

“You remind me of my sister," he said with a short yet sincere smile. “Going in the arena, memories of her is the best gift anyone could give me. So, thank you."

Thea responded with a warm, genuine smile. It reminded Mon El of times when he had made Maya smile after she had had a nightmare. Without realizing it, he had tears forming in his eyes, but he willed them away. Noticing this, Thea held his face, just like Maya. Giving him a reassuring smile, she said, “Be the survivor that you were always meant to be.”

* * *

“Thirty seconds to launch.”

The announcement made Kara rack her brain for something to say, but words failed her. She looked at her designer, as Lena too remained quiet, giving Kara the space that she required to mentally prepare for what was to come next. 

“Thank you for being not crazy,” Kara suddenly said, as she thought about how Lena was perhaps the only citizen of the Capitol that she had met, that hadn’t treated the Games as a celebration. Although they hadn’t talked much, unlike others from the Capitol, like the members of her prep team, she had neither been happy nor excited for sending her to the arena. It was a much needed change, as Kara recognized just how thankful she was for a stylist as unobtrusive as her. Due to this, they had developed a friendship that Kara appreciated. 

Even then, neither of them knew much about each other. Lena had chosen not to reveal her last name, which, Kara respected. In return, Lena had never questioned her about her own family, which was yet another fresh change of pace for Kara, as it made it much easier to hide her true identity.

Therefore, as she realized what she had said, Kara panicked a little. Lena however, gave her a calm smile. 

“I’m not allowed to bet. But I’m still rooting for you, Supergirl.”

Kara relaxed a little, just as “Ten seconds to launch” was announced.

Kara tensed up, as she walked towards the glass tube that contained the platform that was to take her to the arena. Her first thoughts upon looking at the tube, was how small it appeared. She took in a deep breath, as she braced herself, before entering the glass cylinder. Right as she stepped onto the launch plate, behind her, she felt the glass door slide shut. Startled by the movement, she turned and was suddenly made painfully aware of how small the space was. She felt her breath quicken, as the walls around her suddenly began closing in. 

In that moment, the surrounding room was transformed into the inside of the escape pod that she had used to reach Earth. All of a sudden, she felt all the panic that she had felt in that moment, when she had launched from a dying Krypton. She found it hard to believe, as a horrifying silence enveloped her entirely. The platform below her began moving, as she was pulled back to reality. She vaguely registered Lena on the other side of the glass, mouthing the words ‘It’s okay.’ But she barely focussed on it, as the room began disappearing below her feet, and was replaced instead with a momentary darkness that reminded Kara of the emptiness of space. But it lasted for no more than a couple of seconds, as bright sunlight shone in her eyes, making her squint and blink. 

When she finally opened her eyes, she took note of her surroundings. 

A lush green forest. That was the arena design, for the year. In contrast to the dark green forests in the distance, Kara stood on a platform on a span of plain ground. She looked on both sides and noticed tributes from different Districts standing on similar platforms on either side. She quickly observed the gigantic Cornucopia in the centre of a circle that was formed by the tributes. On top of the Cornucopia, a large clock displayed numbers in descending order, counting down to the beginning of the Games.

Kara didn’t know how, but she found her focus and instantly searched for her fellow District 12 tribute, involuntarily scanning the faces for the Career from 2 as well. She looked for James but couldn’t find her anywhere in her view. She used her X-ray vision to see through the Cornucopia to the other side. She huffed in frustration, as she quickly realized that the construct was made of lead, rendering her X-ray vision useless. She decided to observe her surroundings instead, and quickly thought of a plan of action. 

By the time her eyes travelled up to the countdown-clock, it was displaying the number ‘10’. Inhaling deeply, she readied herself for the beginning of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.

The gun shot at zero was among the loudest sound she had ever heard, disorienting her for a moment. Before she knew it, she stepped off her platform and quickly noticed as the tributes around her did the same. She tried her best to run towards the supplies, but for some reason, couldn’t get her legs to cooperate. Suddenly, she froze at the sight in front of her.

A man, Kara guessed he was from District 5, fell a few feet from her, as a knife stuck out of his forehead. The horrendous sight, made her aware of the chaos that was taking place all around her. Suddenly, she simply could not breathe. There was death everywhere. Screams of panic and fear filled the air, as weapons flew all around her. Everywhere she turned, she saw people dying. And there was nothing she could do.

Sharply and suddenly, she was reminded of a similar scene. One that she had witnessed almost sixteen years ago.

It was Krypton all over again.

A knife flew past her and hit a backpack behind her. Although meant to kill her, it brought her back to reality, as she gasped and felt oxygen fill up her lungs. Abruptly, she found her will to move. Without wasting a second, she turned and grabbed the backpack with the knife stuck to it and began running in the direction of the forest, away from the bloodbath.

And for the longest time, she kept running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few points to consider:-  
1\. Henry is actually a decent man. I know he doesn't resemble the canon version much, but whenever the story requires it, I'll do my best to depict him accordingly.  
2\. What the hell Canon!Lena?  
3\. Effie mentions in the movie that District 2 isn't allowed dessert. So it got me thinking that the atmosphere there is very disciplined and curt. As I've said before, I love a good contrast, hence the scene with Thea and Wells.  
4\. Seriously, what the hell Canon!Lena?!  
5\. Kara is claustrophobic.  
6\. WHAT THE HELL CANON!LENA?!!!!!!!
> 
> Up next, the Games actually begin...!  
Until Next Time!


	15. The Diverse Ordinary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hope"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is normal?

There was no hope.

It had been about two days since the bloodbath and Mon El could still feel his heart racing every time he thought of the ordeal. The aftermath plagued his thoughts as every time he closed his eyes, he was greeted with the memory of death.It was among the most terrifying experiences of his life on Terra. Being an alien refugee on the planet, he had been through a lot already. But nothing could compare to what the opening of the 74th Annual Hunger Games had made him go through.

_ It had reminded him of home. _

In the worst way possible, the bloodbath had revived the memories of his last moments on Daxam. The despair, the suffering that dawned over every being. The fear that had innocent mortals in its chokehold. The death that consumed almost everything in its path. It was all painfully familiar to him. For years, Mon El had desperately tried to identify the things that could help him recall his life on Daxam. Over the years, he had foolishly thought of ways to remember his home world. But now, as he sat alone in the Cornucopia, still shaking slightly with terror, all he wanted to do was forget.

Adjusting the quiver of arrows that hung over his shoulder, he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. As he let darkness wrap around him, he realized just how desperately he wanted to scream. While his mind was battling turmoil of an intensity it had never previously known, his features revealed none of it. Sitting on the ground with his back to the cool walls of the Cornucopia, he remained deceptively calm and eyed the entrance. He was a Career after all. Masking pain had become second nature now. The only tell that he had was his racing heartbeat. But that didn’t matter. There was no one in this arena, save for himself, that was burdened with the tiniest of sounds like heartbeats of other tributes, that could only be perceived by the enhanced senses of an alien.

Well, perhaps there was one other being. 

But Kara Zorel finding out that he was afraid, didn’t scare him nearly as much as the thought of the Capitol finding it out, did. He didn’t know if it was because his special connection with electricity, but with every passing second, right from the helicarrier ride to the arena, the tracker in his arm had made its presence known. It started with an itch on his forearm. As time went on however, it became more prominent, to the point that now, he had sorely grown used to the constant pain. Although it had scared him at first, he had realized that he was subconsciously using the pain as an anchor; a constant reminder of reality. Focussing on it, helped him remember that he was not on Daxam (that he was living a different nightmare instead).

It also warned him about how the Capitol was constantly monitoring everything. To them, it didn’t matter that he looked calm and collected. They could see right through him. They knew how his body reacted to fear and therefore could see, clear as day, just how afraid he was. It was this realization that caused Mon El to will himself to calm down. Because after witnessing nearly everything that the Capitol was capable of, he didn’t even want to imagine what they would do to exploit his fear. What changes they would make in the arena, right in front of him. What threats they would introduce just to see how tributes coped. But none of it compared to the dark possibilities of what would happen if they ever found out who he really was…

“Hey space boy! You in there?”

A voice calling for him, from outside the arena pulled him out of his thoughts, as his eyes moved immediately towards the entrance. It took him half a second to realize that his allies had returned from their sweep and were now waiting outside the Cornucopia. Wearing the bow around his shoulders, he got up and steadily walked outside towards the group.

Greeting them with a rehearsed look of boredom, he observed each of their faces. Apart from the boy from 4, who had been assigned to Cornucopia duty like him, everyone bore expressions of extreme disappointment. A total of six Careers had survived the bloodbath (seeing as they had caused it in the first place made their survival quite obvious). The viewers across Panem surely must have noted how efficient the Career group was this year, for eleven tributes had died within the first hour. This in turn, meant that barring the six of them, they only had to hunt down seven people. 

Therefore, to ensure that the Games were stretched long enough so that the viewers could gain interest, and as a sign of trust among allies, they had divided themselves into three groups. Two Careers were to stay at the Cornucopia to ensure that all their resources were safe. While the remaining four, in groups of two were to scour the grounds for the remaining tributes. It had been a whole day since the canon, marking the death of a tribute, hadn’t gone off. 

“There’s no one at the South quadrant, but we did find some burnt off wood near the water stream. Someone was camping there, not long ago. They may not have gotten too far” the female tribute from 4 reported. 

“Alright well, Mon El and I can go check that out, and Sam and Jeff can handle the East. Julia and Trevor, it’s your turn to stay. Is that okay with everyone?” Grace waited for everyone’s approval. When the whole group agreed, they quickly went inside to ready themselves for their respective tasks. 

Within five minutes, Mon El, paired up with Grace was walking towards the water stream to the far West of the Cornucopia. On their first day in the arena, the Careers had noticed how deceptive the sun was, as it rose and set in the same place. Therefore, to give the entire place som sense of direction, they had used the Cornucopia as a landmark of reference. The direction that the tip pointed to, was North and all other sides were marked accordingly. Given how there were two groups, each Career group traversed across diametrically opposite sides, at roughly the same time, so as to ensure that any tribute that got away, would be caught almost immediately.

It truly was an impressive plan and it was Sam’s mastermind. Mon El had found it neither surprising nor questionable that his fellow tribute from 2 had come up with such an elite system of attack. He had even realized that in doing so, she had effortlessly established her leadership over the group. He could see how all the other Careers actually feared her. It was the perfect start to what could very well be a perfect victory. 

His initial assessment had told him quite a few things about his  _ team _ . The very first thing that he had noticed was that everyone in the group was roughly equally skilled. Though the choice of weapon varied, ultimately each Career was almost as lethal as the next. The few things that separated them from each other majorly included their personalities. Sam and Mon El were trained to remain calm even in the worst of calamities. They were taught about how revealing emotions was a mistake that almost always meant death. The tributes from 4 had a somewhat similar approach, especially Julia. The only difference was that while they did everything that they could to hide unfavourable emotions like fear, they weren’t nearly as worried about appearing confident, sometimes overdoing it just a bit. Mon El knew from training that appearing over-confident was the second worst mistake one could make in the arena, the first being appearing decipherable at all. He concluded that the only way Jeff or Julia could make it till the end was if they could back up their careless spill of boldness with actions.

Then there were the tributes from 1, who just didn’t care about what they revealed about their intentions. Right from anger to excitement, everything was at every moment clearly displayed on their faces. Mon El could see right through them. Partly because he had become quite good at reading faces, and partly because they just weren’t interested in appearing cryptic. To add to that, both of them had somewhat of a temper, especially Trevor. He always appeared far too keen to become angry. On the other hand, Grace somehow liked anger. It was as though she used it as an excuse to kill. She didn’t care whom or why she killed. As a result, Mon El concluded her to be reckless, bringing the possibilities of her victory down to almost nil.

“What’re you thinking about, space boy?” Grace called out from a few steps behind him.

The first time someone had called him that, he had panicked. Moment after, however, he had quickly realized that the nickname was actually directed towards his tendency of zoning out from conversations. His team-mates had come up with the term after they had to repeat a statement to get his attention. They had commented on how he seemed lost in space. Mon El had found this quite ironic.

“Just studying the environment” he replied with a convincingly sly smile.

After that, they walked on for a few moments in silence, before Grace stopped and observed the wet soil below their feet, indicating that they were nearing the river. “Let’s split up” she said. “You go downstream, I’ll check the high grounds.”

Mon El found this amusing; how desperate she was to have a kill. Both of them knew that anyone who had spent some time in survival training, knew that the best chances of not only surviving, but also gaining an upper hand over the competition, was always to take the upper ground. He smirked, letting her know that he knew how she was trying to send him away, so that she could have another kill under her belt.

“Sure” he said, in a subtly exaggerated way. When he was met with a slight look of panic on her eyes, he turned, wordlessly and made his way downstream.

* * *

It had been close to an hour as Mon El continued walking down the forest terrain. Keeping the wet soil close for a frame of reference, he continued downstream and was relieved when there was not a single person around. He was secretly glad for Grace’s murder-motives, for it meant that he could steer away from killing an innocent being. For the longest time, he had convinced himself that when the moment came, he would be ready to fight. But that had changed after the bloodbath. He could barely see those gruesome deaths, let alone cause them himself. The notion scared him quite a lot. He wasn’t as prepared as he thought. But he had decided that he would cross that bridge only when he came to it. For now, he simply had to maintain his mysterious facade and uphold the alliance. Everything else would have to wait.

The bridge came long before he had expected.

A rustling in the shrubs nearby caught his attention. He turned sharply and tried to see what had caused the movement, while his bow and arrow remained hung around his shoulders. ‘It was an animal’ he kept telling himself, as he slowly made his way towards the bus, ensuring that his steps were almost entirely muted.

He sighed with relief, as behind the trees, concealed nearly perfectly by the shrubbery around it, was a beautiful deer. It was far enough, not to be disturbed by Mon El’s presence. He observed the animal as it enjoyed the grass that it was eating, not caring for the dangers around it. It brought a smile to his face, as he considered how this animal was perhaps was the only living being inside the arena that could dare to feel free. It brought to memory all the time that he had spent with his sister in the forest beyond 2, observing the variety of life forms that Terra had to offer.

“Don’t move”

The warning of a boy reached Mon El’s ears. He stilled completely as he tried to decide what to do. Slowly, but deliberately, he raised his arms as a sign of surrender. Noticing how the boy hadn’t objected on this movement, he slowly turned around until he was now facing his attacker.

A young boy, about two or three years younger than Mon El, had an arrow stocked in his bow and pointed at Mon El. From his eyes, Mon El could tell just how scared the boy in front of him was. To add to that, his arms were shaking. It was clear to anyone watching that he was not a killer.

With his arms still raised, Mon El said in a calm manner, “It’s okay. You got me, I can’t do anything now.”

“Shut up!” the by all but shouted in a trembling voice. “Don’t you dare try to trick me. You’re a Career. And I’m gonna kill you” he said the final line as though he were desperately trying to convince himself.

In theory, Mon El knew that this could very well be his end. The weapons on Terra were mostly made of lead. As a result an arrow to the chest could most certainly kill him. And yet, the threat didn’t scare him for a multitude of reasons. Mainly, because he had been studying faces for quite some time to know that the boy in front of him was not going to go through with it.

The shaking had increased now, to the point that it showed its effects on the bow and arrow that the boy held. Mon El observed how he took one deep breath after another desperately trying to prepare himself for what he wanted to do. He could see just how difficult it was to release the arrow. He could understand.

“Look, you don’t have to do this” he said, realizing just how hollow his words truly were.

The boy let out a chuckle that was laced with fear and disbelief, before he said, “Of course I do! I don’t get to go home if I don’t”

In that moment, Mon El felt a wave of sorrow wash over him. He realized exactly how helpless both of them were, for in that moment, there was no right choice. There was not a favourable outcome in sight, that meant that both of them could walk away from this, alive. At least the boy wasn’t burdened with the knowledge that his entire civilization had died leaving him as the last of his kind. Perhaps this was what Mon El had earned. He realized that if he died in this arena, then maybe he deserved to. With that in mind he closed his eyes and simply waited.

But the arrow never came.

Instead, the sound of a canon made him open his eyes in confusion. 

He couldn’t look away, as he saw the boy his attacker slowly fall to his knees and collapse to the ground. 

By the time he noticed the knife sticking out of his neck, Grace walked upto the scene and smiled at him. “One down, six to go” she said as she knelt beside the body of the boy that Mon El had been talking to mere seconds ago, and pulled out the knife. Cleaning the blood on the boy’s jacket she got up and made her way to where Mon El stood, still shocked by the incident. Suddenly, she held the knife and imed it in his direction. Mon El, lost in gloom barely noticed as the knife flew a few inches away from his ear and lodged itself in the heart of the deer behind him.

He turned suddenly and watched as the unsuspecting animal fell to the ground.

He barely noticed when Grace smiled and commented on the ‘treat’ that they had for the day. He was far too focussed on what had just happened. A dark and twisted voice in his mind reminded him of how yet again, after all these years, he was the sole survivor, for the two living beings around him had died right in front of him.

It was hell.

* * *

Kara took in a slow and steady breath as she held the knife in her hand. Hiding behind a tree, she leaned a little to get a clear view of her target: an unsuspecting squirrel. It wasn’t much. The squirrel was medium-sized and Kara knew that it was nowhere near to fill her empty stomach. But she was desperate.

The two days since the bloodbath had been hell for Kara. After quite a long time of running, she had finally stopped and realized that she was actually hyperventilating. Looking around her, she had seen nothing but trees. She tried her best to calm herself down and after a few minutes had finally managed to do so. In that moment, everything was deafeningly quiet. There was no movement nearby, which Kara felt was a small relief, given everything that she had seen and endured near the Cornucopia. It took her a few more moments to regain her sense of reality, before she finally assessed the situation.

The first thing that she focussed on was her resources. She sat down next to a big tree and opened the backpack that she had hastily grabbed from the Cornucopia. Inside, she found numerous useful items that she knew were part of a survival kit. The only problem was that apart from the huge knife that the girl from 1 had thrown at her, she had no weapons. 

But the lack of arrows and spears was only part of the reason why she couldn’t hunt. The major factor was that after witnessing all the deaths around her in the bloodbath, a part of her had died too. Her conscience had simply refused to justify the act of claiming a life, even if it was meant for survival. ‘Zheho Voilkir’ didn’t make sense anymore. 

It was why her aim had failed her at every turn. At first, she had relied entirely on clumsily set up traps and the protein crackers that were a part of her survival pack. She had even convinced herself that she didn’t need food, for the yellow sun’s radiation was more than enough to provide her with the energy that she needed. But now, she had become desperate. She realized that all of Panem was watching her. It meant that she needed now more than ever, to convince everyone that she was a human. And humans couldn’t go for more than a few days without food. 

With that in mind, she finally threw the knife at the tiny creature.

The blade missed it by a few inches, but spooked the squirrel enough to run away and disappear into the bushes.

Sighing with frustration, Kara got up and walked over to where the knife had struck the ground. She thought about the irony of the incident. Of how, during her individual assessment, she had managed to strike a tomato from all the way across the hall. Now however, she couldn’t even hit a target that was only a few feet away from her. Deep down, she knew why. During her assessment, she had made use of her powers. Her enhanced senses had helped her aim perfectly, while her strength had ensured that the knife flew all the way to the other side of the room. But ever since she had entered the arena, Kara had refrained from using her powers at all times. The tracker in her arm, though she couldn’t feel it, made her aware that the Capitol was watching her every move. As a result, she had made it a point not to use her powers at all. 

She huffed in annoyance as she considered her situation when all of a sudden a rustling behind her caught her attention. She turned instantly and readied herself for action. She knew that the Careers had been patrolling the grounds and had successfully managed to avoid them throughout. She reminded herself that it could also be just an animal, as she carefully stepped forward. She stopped however, as she saw a tiny head leaning from behind a tree trunk. The moment the little girl saw that Kara had spotted her, she quickly returned to hiding behind the tree.

Rue. Kara recognized the girl from 11. Calmly, ensuring that she the girl wasn’t spooked by movement, Kara made her way towards her and halted a few feet from the tree that was currently concealing her. In a calm and clear tone, she slowly said, “Hey, it’s okay. Rue isn’t it?” Upon receiving no response, she continued, “Don’t be afraid. I’m not gonna hurt you.” To back her words, she dropped the knife that she was holding down to the ground.

A few seconds passed before Rue stepped forward and revealed herself.

Looking at the frail little girl in front of her, something changed in Kara’s mind. She was suddenly reminded of the way that she had felt on the train ride to the Capitol, when she had decided to protect James at all costs. Now, it had been two days since the Games had begun and James was nowhere to be seen. For the longest time, she had felt lost. But looking at Rue, it was as though she had found her purpose again. It was as though her conscience had finally returned to her, giving her permission to do whatever it took to protect the innocent being in front of her. 

With that she extended her arm and offered Rue a hand of friendship. It took the scared little girl a couple of seconds, but ultimately, she accepted it.

And just like that, Kara managed to find a ray of hope in hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are quite a few points to discuss here, but unfortunately, I can't go through them at the moment. The entire month I will be stuck with exams, so I won't have the time.  
Not to worry though, for I will do my best to update every week!  
So yes. Thank You all, I appreciate all the hits and kudos and will certainly be back with my long notes soon!  
Until Next Time!


	16. Close Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yes. He was a threat. (No, Kara still wasn’t sure.)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that the first statement is also the last statement...!  
Also, 11 people died in the bloodbath, not 13. The author kinda forgot that the story needs more people alive!!

The sound of the death-canon reverberated across the arena.

_ A few hours earlier. _

Things were starting to look up. Within just a few hours of teaming up with Rue, Kara had quickly realized the many benefits of their alliance. For one, her mind seemed to have returned to its Kryptonian-planner mode, as she found herself running through numerous survival strategies that they would most certainly require for the next few days. She was grateful, for it provided her with a reason, an excuse to move on from the gruesome memories of the bloodbath that had taken over her entirely for the last two days. She had something to focus on; a mission. After having seen how the arena had already claimed countless lives around her (and having done nothing about it), she treated meeting Rue as a second chance.

Another thing that Kara found quite favourable about the turn of events, was how Rue was actually quite a smart kid. When Kara had first seen her during the tribute training week, she had felt sorry for her. The sight of the frail little tribute from 11 had brought about a mix of deep sorrow and pure anger. Because she had realized that no matter how optimistic she chose to remain about the situation, it was clear as day that a young, relatively unskilled tribute like Rue was not going to survive for long. That at the end of it all, death was most certainly going to claim her. (She had even considered the possibility of having to choose between saving her and her mission James, but had quickly refused to contemplate any further). That she would most probably perish within the first few minutes of the bloodbath, had been Kara’s final thoughts about the girl, before she had isolated herself completely from more reflection.

But Rue hadn’t died in the bloodbath. In fact, she had somehow survived for almost two days before Kara had found her. It meant that she had not only sneaked away from a death-fest near the cornucopia at the beginning of the Games, but had also avoided the many Careers that Kara had herself come across, thoroughly patrolling the forest. She had outsmarted that lethal group, twice. It made Kara smile, and considering everything, doing so was quite a miraculous feat.

But it wasn’t until they began setting up a tent, that Kara realized just how knowledgeable Rue was. She had been attempting to hunt, when Kara had spotted Rue, busy making a large pile of branches and dry leaves. She had instantly warned her about how burning dry leaves would create a lot of smoke, thereby attracting attention. But instead of appearing sheepish, Rue had simply smiled and explained to Kara how she hadn’t meant to burn the leaves at all.

“They’re nimtree branches. The leaves keep bugs away” she had explained. 

Upon closer inspection, Kara had suddenly realized. “Indian Lilac?!” she had exclaimed. She had learned about the ancient, Terran trees in school and so, had known that they had been extinct for quite a long time. Surprised, for she hadn’t expected to ever see them, she had quickly realized that this was indeed the Gamemakers’ signature design. Almost every year, the arena included an element from old Terra, as a reminder of the peaceful times before the war. It had further made her realize that the Capitol had the means and technology to recreate essential, long gone things that had been extinct for years.

And they used it to kill people.

“Yeah” Rue had smiled upon learning that Kara knew about the trees too. She had then explained, quite enthusiastically, about her extensively vast knowledge about the species, wherein, Kara had learned quite a lot, both about the tree, as well as about her ally. As she was rambling on about how the smoke of dried neem leaves was so chemically rich that it could make even aggressive predators like vultures and tracker-jacker wasps drowsy, Kara realized how this trait of hers, of having in-depth knowledge about things, made Rue even more likable, for in many ways, it reminded Kara of herself. During her first few years on Earth, Kara too had loved collecting information about the countless things on the planet, that made it so special. Over the years however, she had stopped without intending to. The realization that the more she learned about Earth’s cultural history, the angrier she got at the injustice of it all, made her stop eventually.

It pained her even more, as she considered the true innocence of the girl in front of her. How the time that should have been spent on ensuring that she could learn about anything and everything under the sun, was instead being used to test her survivability in a murder-fest. Kara shook away the melancholic thoughts and focussed instead on killing the rabbit in front of her.

* * *

Finally settling down for the night, Kara realized she was exhausted. The laborious work of setting up the make-shift tent from her backpack, camouflaging it with branches along with the constant fear of encountering a Career had taken its toll on them. Then there had been the sharing of their limited resources. Kara had finally managed to hunt down their dinner and it was decided that the kill would be shared between the two equally. However, as she observed Rue practically licking clean her rabbit-leg bone, she had realized that the poor girl was starving. Considering how she had probably survived an entire day on nothing but nuts and berries, Kara had given Rue some of her own share as well. At first, Rue had sheepishly and politely declined, but on some insistence from Kara, had accepted the food gratefully. 

When night fell, both tributes settled inside their tent. Having only one sleeping bag, Kara had immediately handed it over to Rue who, though shivering, had refused, this time a little more assertively. They had debated for quite some time. Rue was stubborn, but Kara was more so. In the end she had managed to tuck her into the bag, but not before being handed with Rue’s jacket that was made of the same synthetic-reflective material as the bag.

Almost immediately, Rue had fallen asleep, leaving Kara alone with her thoughts. At first, she had simply refused to sleep, for she had to keep watch during the night. But now, as she stared into the pitch black of the forest, she realized that at this point, falling asleep was more of something that she couldn’t do, rather than something that she would opt not to do. If her first day in the arena had taught her anything, it was that she could not relax. Letting her guard down would certainly mean death. And right now, it wasn’t an option. Looking at the sleeping form of Rue, she realized that in her mind she was already preparing to fight anyone that threatened to take her life. Not unlike before, the decision came naturally to her. Protecting Rue had now become a priority.

Almost as if on cue, the Horn of Plenty blared across the arena, pulling Kara’s attention to the sky above the large Cornucopia. Thin air was replaced with the seal of the Capitol, before a three dimensional holograph projected the face of a young boy with the words  _ ‘District 6’ _ printed at the bottom. The picture remained in the air for a while, before almost as abruptly as the display had begun, it disappeared completely, leaving Kara yet again in the dark.

A part of her felt relieved, while another felt guilty. Relieved, because it wasn’t James’s face in the list of the Vanquished. Guilty, because she was relieved by the death of an innocent being. It was dark, yet logical. Everytime the number of deceased increased, everyone in the arena was pushed one step towards the end. No matter how depressing the display was, in a cruel way, it was meant to give all tributes hope. As much as Kara hated it, she knew that it was pointless mourning death in the arena. She just hoped that the person responsible for the murder of that innocent boy felt as guilty as she did.

(He did.) 

Overcome by a wave of grief and exhaustion, her final thoughts were about how she had involuntarily noticed that the boy from 2 was also alive and how a small part of her actually felt relieved. Startled at first, she realized that she was too tired to investigate and therefore decided to rest her eyes for a bit.

* * *

The next morning, soft, warm sunlight lit up the entire arena. A light breeze swayed among the tall, green trees, making the leaves rustle. The chirps and twitters of numerous birds filled the air, while the sky was filled with dashes of colours rushing past a blue background. In her sleepy daze, Kara vaguely registered how everything was perfect.

Something was wrong.

Slowly, almost lazily, she lifted her head and looked around her. When nothing seemed out of the ordinary in front of her, she turned to her enhanced senses, out of habit, just to be sure. 

Sleep left her entirely when she heard footsteps approaching her.

Fully alert now, although she didn’t let it show on her face, she decided to wake Rue. In the last second however, she stopped herself. Why was she waking her? What threat did she want to make her aware of? More importantly, how did she even know that a threat was approaching? A normal human wouldn’t have heard the footsteps. Then how did she know? Desperately racking her brain to answer the array of questions, Kara huffed in frustration. The footsteps were closer now. She was running out of time. She was tempted to just risk it all, grab Rue and make a run for it. But could she really survive after that? The Capitol was watching her every move. She knew that the moment they found out that there was something ‘not normal’ about one of their tributes, they would immediately pull her out of the arena. What would happen then? What of Rue?

No. She couldn’t be rash. She had to play this carefully. Rue’s life depended on it. Considering everything, she realized there was only one thing she could do. Be ready to fight, (she thought as she pushed away the voice in her head that said, ‘Run for your lives!’).

Before she knew it, she heard a voice accompanying the steps. It belonged to a girl, the Career from 4, Kara guessed. She was talking to someone. Kara knew they patrolled in pairs, so she had to be doubly sure of her camouflage. She looked at the tent that was currently covering up herself and Rue from outside view. The tent itself didn’t blend in with the background at all. It was the branches and leaves that made it look like a bush. From inside, Kara couldn’t tell very clearly how the tent now appeared to a passerby. Hopefully it was enough.

“I see it.”

The words made Kara’s heart skip a beat. She stopped breathing, as she slowly to look at two approaching figures. Julia Freeman walked from right in front of her and passed her without even batting an eye. Only after a few seconds, Kara realized that she was actually talking about the Cornucopia, as she saw her pointing towards its direction. 

“We should head north after this” she said to her partner, whom Kara still couldn’t see. It was only when he took a few more steps behind Julia that she saw who it was.

No one could spot them, Kara was sure, as Julia hadn't suspected a thing. She had seen only branches and leaves; nothing out of the ordinary in a forest. In fact, Kara would even go as far as saying that any other Career could not have spotted them. 

Anyone but him. 

As she saw Mon El approaching the tent, she berated herself on her bad decision of not running, wondering whether a mistake as simple as this one would cost both Rue and her their lives. Because if Mon El had powers even closely similar to hers, that meant that he could hear two sets of heartbeats coming from the bushes. 

She hoped he wasn't listening. 

Kara held her breath as he continued to walk by. A few more steps, and he would've passed the tent entirely. But just then, he stopped abruptly. He frowned a little, and closed his eyes, seeming to be focussed on something. A second later, he opened his eyes and turned to face her, looking at her, directly in the eyes, were it not for the veil of branches in between them. At that moment, all Kara could hear was the loud thumping of her own heart. She tried her best to calm herself, but simply couldn't, as she stared back in his stormy grey eyes, reminding her of her nightmare. If he had X-ray vision like her, then it was game over for the female tributes from 11 and 12.

From the look on his face Kara could tell that he knew. Her panic grew tenfold when Julia asked him, “Hey, what's wrong?" 'This was it' she thought to herself. This was how it ends. When he opened his mouth to respond, Kara took in a deep brEath, preparing herself for the worst of outcomes. 

“Nothing"

He said it as nonchalantly as he possibly could, convincing Julia completely. He gave the shrub one more glance before walking away with his fellow Career and leaving the premises of the tent. 

Besides her, Rue was just beginning to wake up. “What happened?" she asked groggily, confused about why Kara appeared as frightened. At that moment Kara couldn't help but snicker, making Rue even more worried. Kara couldn't help it. Relief washed down her, as she thought amusingly about how she could answer Rue's question.

* * *

The arena was truly beautiful. A walk through the cool climate that the tall, green trees provided was refreshing. It must've been, but Kara wouldn't know, for ever since the events that had occurred in the morning, her mind had been preoccupied. After their very close, very risky encounter with the Careers, Kara had decided that they needed to keep moving. They needed to find a place that could remain well concealed from passers-by, without having to rely on flimsy covers like sticks and leaves. Within an hour, Rue had spotted a cave. It was difficult to spot on ground level and Rue, it seemed, had come across it when she had been perched on top of a tree on her very first day. It was narrow at the mouth but broadened inside, hiding everyone inside from view perfectly. Rue seemed lost in thought as she eyed the large stone walls of the cave. Kara on the other hand was distracted as well. This seemed to be the case whenever the Career from 2 was involved. Each time Kara had encountered him, it had led to quite a few hours of confusion, turmoil and frustration. 

Because each time, she had thought he would behave in a particular way, he had surprised her. She couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried, figure him out. As a planner, Kara preferred to have a proper understanding of the situation that she was dealing with. In the arena, that meant classifying tributes as threats or nots. From what she knew, apart from the Careers, Rue and herself, only the boy from 5, the girl from 9 and the male tributes from 11 and 12 were alive. She knew from training that the boy from 5 had practiced with spears, while the one from 11 was extremely aggressive. His close-fighting technique was good, but due to his bulky frame, he was also slow. This could work in favour of Rue who was surprisingly quick on her feet. As for the girl from 9, Kara had only seen her once and from what she could tell, she was pretty clever. 

As for the Careers, all of them were threats. She had seen how most of them operated during the bloodbath. Collectively, they could be considered like a killing machine. It didn’t matter what they came across. Together, they were quite nearly unbeatable. Therefore, the only way to defeat them, was to go with Henry’s advice and somehow turn them against each other. While she was nearly sure she could do that for Districts 1 and 4, as Kara considered the tributes ‘hotheads’ and therefore easily ‘volatile’-able. However, when it came to District 2, she was lost. Both tributes had, from the very beginning maintained a facade. None of them seemed keen on expressing what went inside their heads. For that matter, District 2 tributes were the most serious threat inside the arena.

Even then, Kara could classify Sam as malicious. But could she say the same about Mon El? He had very clearly seen her and Rue hiding behind the branches. He had the upper hand in the situation. He could out them both without even needing to reveal his powers. But he didn’t. Why? Before, Kara had everything sorted out. But now, she simply couldn’t answer that question truthfully. 

A tiny voice in her head gave her hope. It told her how the simplest solution to the riddle was the fact that he was, just like her, an alien. Just like her, he too had probably faced all the difficulties that came with surviving on the planet. Unlike the evil Career that she initially took him to be, he was simply a good alien stuck in a horrible situation.

Another voice, much more fierce this time, squashed the hopeful one down. It spoke of facts. At the moment, out of the few things that she did know about him, she knew that he belonged to one of the most popular Career Districts. 2 was known for its intense tribute training and for producing some of the most able victors. They were ruthless, but never showed it right away. It was possible that he too belonged to this category. Perhaps he was like a lion eyeing his prey, about to attack at any moment. To add to it, he had powers like her. Perhaps he had deliberately kept quiet. Maybe in his mind, he didn’t consider Kara or Rue to be a worthy opponent, and so had simply ignored them.

Yes. He was a threat. (No, Kara still wasn’t sure.)

Owing to her paradoxical thoughts Kara hadn’t noticed the signs. The staunch lack of green inside the cave. The low hum that was reverberating within the walls. The carcasses of small animals left to rot near the corners. Navigating through the winding corridors, they walked for quite some time before Kara realized that it had gotten much too dark too continue any further.

It was the loud and steady hum that caught her attention.

* * *

A shriek caught Mon El’s attention, causing him to raise his head. Noticing no reaction from his fellow Career, he realized that the sound was detectable only to him, which in turn meant that whoever was responsible for it was somewhere far away. He didn’t know whom the voice belonged to, but based on what he had found in that general direction earlier today, he had a pretty good guess. 

“Look. Over there” Julia called out, pointing to something. When he turned, he saw what unmistakably looked like smoke, coming from the East quadrant.

“Just when you think they can’t get any dumber” she said with a smile. Mon El gave her a curt smile, before continuing to stare at the smoke-signal. Among the first few things that they taught in survival skills, it was basic knowledge that some leaves created more smoke than others. Starting a fire with such material was therefore one of the easiest ways of getting spotted and by extension, getting killed. Needless to say, Mon El was not keen on witnessing what would follow.

“C’mon. Let’s go before they get away” Julia pulled him out of his thoughts.

“IWe should spread out. In case it’s a runner” he added upon studying the confusion etched on Julia’s face. She seemed suspicious, but after a few seconds, seemed to be on board with the idea.

With that, they split, each choosing a direction and preparing to run towards it. Only when Julia was already a few steps ahead, did Mon El start on his own pursuit.

* * *

A tiny shriek escaped Rue before she could help herself. She hurriedly brushed the big wasp that had landed on her shoulder, moving around in the dark in pure hysteria. She had spotted the large tracker-jacker nest stuck to the far corner of the ceiling of the cave a second before Kara had. Unlike Rue, Kara acted on instinct. Immediately kneeling on the ground, she removed her backpack and hurried through its contents before fishing out what she needed.

Ignoring the frightening sight of a giant wasp that lay on the ground a few feet from her, she quickly got to work. Placing a dry grass mesh that was part of her survival kit, she fiercely struck two stones that she had collected along the way, thereby creating tiny sparks. As soon as a spark caught the mesh, she gently blew below it, helping the blaze grow and soon a tiny fire lit the dark surrounding region. Once sure that the flame was strong enough, she quickly reached in her bag and pulled out a few of the nimtree leaves that she had retrieved from their tent.

She crushed the dry leaves and sprinkled it on the fire. Within seconds, a white smoke emerged from the set up. It grew steadily, blurring the surrounding area even more than before. It seemed almost artificial how fast the smoke seemed to be spreading, as it reached the ceiling of the cave in no more than a few seconds. Kara trained her ears on the nest near her and sighed in relief, as she heard the buzz of the wasps die down. They were getting drowsy. 

But the job wasn’t over yet. She still needed to get Rue and herself out of the chemically rich cave. She called for Rue in the dark and was about to get up, when all of a sudden she felt dizzy. A wave of weakness passed over her as she tried but failed to get up. Managing with great difficulty to stand up, she leaned on the walls of the cave for support. 

She couldn’t understand what was happening. She thought about the smoke entering her lungs, making her dizzy, but realized that she hadn’t coughed yet. Something else was overwhelming her and she couldn’t understand what it was. She felt nausea, dizziness and weakness overpowering her all at once. Everything hurt. Her arms felt as though they were being stabbed painfully by needles. She vaguely heard Rue calling her, but found that she couldn’t respond. 

The sound of Rue coughing weakly was the last thing she remembered before she fainted.

* * *

Rue was completely disoriented. She didn’t know where she was going but knew that she had to keep going. Staying where she was wasn’t an option, as the thick smoke was burning through her nostrils. She coughed and ran as fast as she could. Using the walls around her to navigate through the darkness, she finally saw some light and desperately began running towards it. The air got fresher with every step that she took. Finally reaching the mouth of the cave she almost fell to her knees, steadying herself at the last second by leaning onto a nearby tree trunk.

She coughed uncontrollably for an entire minute. When her coughing reduced, it was instantly replaced by breathlessness. She turned to face the cave and stared at it with horror. Guilt gnawed at her as she realized that she had left Kara behind. She couldn’t figure out what to do. After a few seconds of waiting, she decided to go back for her. Deciding to run, hoping that it wouldn’t cause her to faint midway, she started towards the caves, only to be stopped abruptly by a pair of arms that grabbed her from the side.

She turned to see the boy from District 2 looking at her. The fear in her mind doubled, as she stilled completely, expecting him to attack. But he didn’t.

“Run towards the river. Go upstream” he said, stressing his words. When she didn’t respond, he raised his volume slightly, before saying, “Go!”

As Rue ran away, Mon El turned towards the cave. The white smoke was almost up to the mouth. Taking in a deep breath, he ran inside. Navigating through the dark, smoke-filled corridors of the cave, he noticed how breathing became more and more difficult. The smoke was thick, attacking Mon El’s nose and lungs. His eyes burned as he tried to use his X-ray vision to locate her, but found that he couldn’t. Suddenly, a tiny hum reached his ears, while his eyes spotted a bright green drop sparkling in the dark.

He found Kara lying unconscious directly below the tracker-jacker nest. He failed to realize that it was now getting easier to see around him. White was replaced with a nearly visible black, as a wasp hovered a centimetre away from his ear.

The wasps were waking up.

Swatting it away with the back of his hand, too busy focussing on the unconscious tribute in front of him, he didn’t notice when the wasp hit the nest. He scooped Kara up in his arms as the humming from the nest began growing. Without a second look back, he started running.

The tracker jackers followed close after.

He was running as fast as he could with the deadly wasps almost catching up to him. He had studied about tracker jackers in school. They were genetically engineered to be bigger, faster and more ruthless. A sting was supposed to be extremely painful. Enough stings meant death. Although they had the weaknesses of a normal wasp, it was still quite difficult to overwhelm one, let alone a swarm. 

That was why he was running towards the stream. With his full strength, he ran as fast as was humanely possible. He wasn’t even sure if he vulnerable to the wasps. Neither was he sure if they would affect him or the person he was carrying. So he had to make sure that the wasps didn’t catch up, which was becoming more difficult by the second. Almost to the stream, he could see the water a few yards from him. It was at that moment, that he tried to listen to Kara’s very weak heartbeat. It was speeding up, or so he thought. He hesitated a little as he considered the possibility of her dying.

His hesitation cost him.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp pain struck the side of his neck. He felt the needle-like stingers of the wasp dig into his neck and just like that, he couldn’t breathe. His throat closed up, as all his brain could process in that moment was the pain. He lost all sense of direction and only vaguely registered that he was running. Another wasp struck him in the arm and this time, the pain shot straight up his head. His vision became blurry as he tried to shake away the bugs that, no matter how hard he tried, would not budge. A sting to his leg was what finally caused his knees to give. He fell to his knees with the water only a few feet away. His head was spinning, as he didn’t even notice when he let go of Kara and fell to his back.

Through barely open eyes and a blurry vision, he looked at the cloud of buzzing black above him. His final thought was about how this was it, before he vaguely registered the shift of colour from black to a fiery orange. Like fire. It reminded him of Daxam, before he slipped into darkness.

The sound of the death-canon reverberated across the arena.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until Next Time...!


	17. Aftermath - I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I propose an alliance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without further delay (I know I'm a day late!) here's the chapter!

A flash of light engulfed everything in sight.

A majestic fleet of warriors spanned across the rustic mountain range. The steadily growing sandstorm did nothing to faze the able fighters that stood poised, waiting for the battle to begin. The sleek yet strong armour that they wore displayed power. Their weapons described the strength that each soldier was capable of. It was clear to anyone watching that these people could very easily decimate anything and everything in their path.

The storm grew, making it impossible to see farther than a few feet. But the warriors were prepared for a calamity as this. They were ready for nearly anything that would be thrown their way. It was the way they were trained. Every warrior mimicked the other in both appearance and posture. Each soldier looked deceptively calm, hiding very efficiently the threatening fighter that lived within. The suit of armour looked almost like cloth, tricking attackers into misjudging its invulnerability. The sleeves contained an array of weapons ranging from knives to blasters while the greave that covered the legs was left relatively empty to make it easier to run. The headgear was light yet securing, protecting their eyes from the fine sand. Collectively, the soldiers looked like an enormous, metallic battleship, waiting to strike down its enemies, for all warriors were armoured identically.

All but one.

The woman stood at the front of the army. Instead of a war armour, she was dressed in a royal attire. Monarchical fabric was fused with metal, producing a royal blue dress that reached down to her ankles, with a slit that could allow her to run. Her legs were covered in a similar material with a small blaster fastened to each side. Instead of a headgear, a sleek, plate covered her eyes while a crown adorned her head, allowing her hair to flow behind her in the direction of the wind. From the way she held herself, there was no doubt that she was the leader of the impressive legion behind her. From the way others around her held themselves, it was clear that she had earned their respect. 

After looking into the distance for a few moments, she turned to face her people. At first, the glass plating that veiled her eyes made her appear like a cyborg. She lifted the plate to reveal stormy grey eyes that looked at the brave warriors in front of her with pride. In response, one-by-one, soldiers fell to their knees, bowing down to her. It was a display of reverence and admiration; of the power that she possessed. Over the years, starting out as a young warrior, she had risen through the ranks until now, when she was known as the most influential queen of her world. She had led her people into numerous battles and brought back glory to her empire. Under her rule, their world had thrived and now possessed more power than it ever had before. 

To her people, she was known as Queen Leanne Rell, the finest queen that Daxam had ever seen. To the boy staring at her with awe from the tents behind the hill, she was known as something else.

“Mother?” A baffled Mon El exclaimed.

* * *

It was the harsh sunlight falling directly on his face that made him want to turn his head in the other direction. Doing so, however, proved to be a lot more difficult than he had thought, for a sharp pain spread along the side of his neck. He scrunched his eyes as he felt the pain travel all the way up to his skull. Hazily, it made him realize two things. First, that moving his head was probably not a good idea, and second that his eyes were closed.

Why were his eyes closed?

As he tried to remember, he realized that his mind was still too fuzzy to formulate thoughts that involved anything other than the piercing pain on his neck. Instead, he decided to take things slow, focussing first and foremost on prying his eyes open. Slowly, steadily, he opened his eyes noticing the heaviness in his eye-lids. Opening his eyes before closing them again, he blinked a few times to decipher his blurry vision.

It was then that he saw the roundest eyes he had ever seen staring back at him.

He jerked back in response, causing her to mirror his actions and hurry away from him. He wanted to follow her, but couldn’t as the sudden movement caused the pain in his neck to flair up, forcing him to lie still and take in a few deep breaths until it passed. In that moment, he realized that a similar pain existed in his arm, as well as his knee. He tried to bring the arm that felt relatively okay, up to his neck, but quickly found that both his arms were moving in unison, burning the wound on the other arm. Confused, he looked down at his hands, only to find them firmly tied together. Scrunching his eyes, he looked up and saw branches and leaves above him. 

That was when it hit him. He was in the arena.

At that moment, he was grateful for the training he had received in the District 2 centre. Instead of panic, which would normally dominate an untrained mind in a situation like this, his mind reminded him that the very fact that he was still alive, after very clearly displaying that he was injured, meant that he wasn’t in any immediate danger. Nevertheless, he needed to get up.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to turn to his side, trying to use his elbows to raise himself. With great difficulty, he managed to stand on both feet, ensuring not to put much weight on his injured leg. Assessing the situation, he realized a few things. Firstly, his right leg and left arm were injured. They hurt if he moved, but not as much as his neck. He also knew that he was in the arena. Apart from this, he knew little of the moments that had led up to now. Just then, he observed some movement behind a tree, a few feet in front of him. He looked as a tiny head slowly leaned from behind the tree and looked at him. The moment the little girl saw that he was staring back at her, she quickly hid behind the tree. 

Squinting at her, Mon El, though he didn’t recognize the girl immediately, knew that she seemed familiar, somehow. Slowly, and as steadily as he could manage, he limped towards her. Careful not to spook her, he stopped a few feet before the tree. 

“Hey” he called out, softly, noticing how hoarse his voice had become. “Hey it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you” Mon El tried to reassure her.

This time when she reappeared from behind the tree, Mon El noticed her round eyes. It was then that he suddenly remembered those eyes from before. He remembered how much fear was in them when he had caught her before she could run straight into the cave. One after the other, memories started resurfacing. How he had run into the cave. How he had attempted to rescue the girl from 12. How he had almost reached the water stream before falling to his knees.

How deadly tracker-jackers had overwhelmed him.

Considering how venomous those wasps were, Mon El considered himself quite lucky (despite the blinding pain everytime he turned his head).

“You don’t need to be afraid. I’m not gonna hurt you. Besides, I couldn’t. You may notice I’m not exactly in the best form at the moment” he said with a small smile gesturing towards his tied hands, wincing slightly at the pain in his arm.

To this, Rue timidly stepped out from behind the tree. “Rue, isn’t it?” he asked, an assuring smile on his face. “I’m Mon El.” It took a few seconds before Rue calmed a little and responded with a small smile. 

“You saved my life” Mon El said. The last thing he remembered before everything had gone dark was staring at a cloud of angry wasps. When he had gone in the cave to rescue Kara, his plan had been to run and jump straight into the river, but midway things had gone wrong. As a backup, he had kept a torch lit and ready nearby, but had fainted before he could ever reach it. Although he had seen a dash of orange right before his eyes had closed, he had attributed it to the strong hallucinations that were supposed to be caused by tracker-jacker venom. Now, however, as he thought back to that moment, he realized that it must’ve been Rue who used the torch against the wasps and saved him. To add to it, as he looked down at his arms and legs, he saw them covered in a make-shift leaf coat. It made him realize that they were meant to clear the venom from his system. It was why he had been able to wake up. It was why he was alive. 

The almost sheepish smile on her face confirmed Mon El’s theory. “Thank you” he said sincerely to the little girl in front of him, when all of a sudden,

“Get away from her” a voice of a girl came from behind him causing him to turn slowly.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said as he saw the girl from 12 in front of him with an arrow loaded onto her bow and pointed at him. Keeping his eyes trained at the arrow, he continued, “That’s a weird way to thank me after I saved your life.”

Ignoring his snarky remark, Kara asked Rue, “When did he wake up?” to which the girl responded with “Just now.” She kept the arrow pointed in his direction for a few seconds, asking Rue to stand behind her. Once she was sure that the girl was safe, she slowly lowered it, all the while keeping both eyes on him. 

Curious to know exactly what she had in mind, Mon El quietly observed her as she asked Rue whether she was okay, keeping her eyes trained on him. Then, without wasting any more time, she said,”Okay then, you have one minute to run away before we start attacking.” 

‘These were confusing times’ Mon El thought to himself as he remained quiet.

“You saved our lives and we nursed you back to health,” she continued. “We’re even. So now you can go back to your Career pack and stay away. They’ve been looking for you.”

“Looking for me? Wait, how long have I been out?”

“A couple of days” Rue answered.

Mon El considered all the information. He realized that after having distracted Julia with the fake fire, Mon El had run straight towards the cave and never returned. It may have stirred up suspicion in the Cornucopia. The fact that the Careers were looking for him after that could only mean one thing.

He had broken their trust. They were trying to hunt him down.

He couldn’t go back to them. Especially now when his hands were tied and his body was mere hours away from passing out again. The girl from 12, it seemed, didn’t care. Patience running low, she said, “So go on. I won’t refrain from attacking for too long.”

Mon El considered his words before he responded, “I can’t do that.” He found it amusing how Kara seemed almost offended, but before she could interject, he continued. “Look, I can barely walk, let alone run. How far do you think I’ll get before I’m doomed?”

“That’s not our prerogative!” she responded without missing a beat. “We did what we could. We brought you back. You’re not our problem anymore. Besides, like I said, the Careers are looking for you. Keeping you with us is a risk”

“Look, just hear me out. I’m no good like this. If I go back to the Careers with my hands tied, believe me, you’ll hear the canon and find my face on top of the Cornucopia within the hour. And as for the Careers, well, they’ll be patrolling either way. So even without me here, you’re still at risk.” he said, subtly pointing towards Rue for the last part.

Fortunately, Kara didn’t respond right away, prompting Mon El to utilize the opportunity and continue. “Instead, I have an idea. One that can benefit all of us.”

“I propose an alliance.”

From the look on her face, he could tell that it was perhaps the most outlandish thing she had ever heard.

Recovering from the initial shock, it seemed, Kara responded, “No thanks. We’re fine.”

Mon El had scored a 10 in negotiations skills. He was among the best in all of District 2. Based on their infuriating first meeting, Mon El knew how Kara would respond. She was stubborn. But so was he.

“Look, I saved your life. And in doing so, I risked my position in the Career alliance. You have to understand that I got nothing to fall back on. So I can help you and if need be, save you again.”

“We don’t need saving. And frankly, I don’t care about where you stand with the Careers. The only reason we kept you alive all this time is because you saved us. You helped us once, we returned the favour.”

Before he could respond, it was Rue who interrupted, as she only said one word. “Twice”

Both Kara and Mon El looked confused as they looked at Rue, urging her to elaborate. Turning to Kara, she continued, “He’s saved me twice. Once at the cave, and once at the Cornucopia during the bloodbath. The girl from 4 had an arrow aimed at me. He pushed me away and made her miss.”

Kara, as it appeared, was taken aback. Mon El on the other hand, just smiled at Rue and said, “I didn’t think you noticed.” In response she smiled at him gratefully. A moment later, he noticed how Kara had fallen silent. She appeared to be deep in thought about something. Realizing that Rue had just sped up the negotiations, he quickly continued. “I can help you guys. You know, bring a lot to the table. For instance, I can hunt. I mean, you took away all my weapons and still the best you could hunt down was a rabbit.” he said, gesturing to the small rabbit tied to Kara’s belt. When she kept quiet, he continued, “There are benefits to having a popular Career in your team.”

On this, Kara huffed and was about to respond with how there were no benefits whatsoever, when suddenly she heard a soft whistling above them. She looked up to see a parachute tied to a steel box, floating above them. As it gently landed on the ground between Kara and Mon El, she looked up to see an almost smug look on his face while she looked frustrated.

It was a sponsored gift.

In hindsight, it could’ve been for Kara or Rue, but the obvious explanation was that it was meant for the popular tribute from 2. Even then, Kara hoped that the box didn’t open for him, as Mon El slowly made his way to it. Sponsor boxes were fingerprint locked, to ensure that only the tribute for whom it was meant could open it. To her disappointment, however, as soon as Mon El bent down and opened the box with his tied hands, the lid hissed open revealing the gift inside.

“Medicine” he said, as he read the note on top that read  _ ‘Apply generously and stay alive.’ _

Although he didn’t actually say it, Kara could almost hear his smug response. Ultimately, it was a little insistance by Rue that finally made her decide. “Fine,” she said. “We’ll form an alliance. But make this very clear in your mind. I don’t trust you. The second you try something, I will kill you.”

Raising his hands (as much as he could given the restriction to movement that the rope provided) he accepted her terms. “Also, I can’t really help you with my hands tied, so…”

It was Kara’s turn to smile smugly, as she said, “Well, you did score an 11 in individual assessment, so I’m guessing you must be good for something, right? Figure it out.”

‘Of course’ he thought to himself, scoffingly.

* * *

Being left alone with one’s thoughts was clearly not the best way to spend time. Especially when one was wounded and quite in pain. Owing to his hands being tied being one of the conditions of the alliance, and the fact that he wasn’t allowed anywhere near weapons, Mon El was forced to complete menial tasks such as collecting sticks for the fire and shelter. Even then Kara didn’t trust him completely and so ultimately, he had ended up sitting down with his back to a tree and just thinking. 

A few hours after negotiating the terms of their alliance, Mon El’s mind had been bombarded with memories. Right from hearing the sound of trouble to rescuing Kara, to trying to run away to getting stung, he now remembered everything quite clearly. But none of that was as interesting to him, as what happened after he fainted.

At first he had seen nothing but darkness, reminding him of the time that he had spent in space. Then, all of a sudden, he had felt the sudden pull of gravity as he realized that he was falling hard and fast. He remembered feeling scared and panicked and helpless, much like when he had fell to Earth. But unlike the small crater that he had created on impact with the ground on Earth, he didn’t feel anything, this time. Instead of falling on the ground, he was suddenly sitting on a bed in a tent somewhere. Looking around him, failing to recognize the unfamiliar setting, he felt confused. It took him a while to realize that someone was talking to him.

“I’ll be back soon,” a man said.

It wasn’t hearing the words that had startled him, but rather the language that they had been spoken in, that did. It made him turn towards the entrance of the tent and he saw barely saw a man as he covered up the flap and sealed the tent from outside, ensuring Mon El couldn’t get out. Seeing this, Mon El quickly ran towards the small window of the tent to take a look at who the man was.

He momentarily forgot how to breathe as he saw the familiar form of Var Eth walking away from him. He screamed, pleaded, begged him to come back. But either Var Eth couldn’t hear him, or had simply ignored him like he had on that horrible day.

Daxam.

He suddenly realized where he was. He recognized the terrain that he was so well acquainted with. The rose-coloured trees and the red sand that he hadn’t seen in so long. From the window, he saw similar tents spread all around his own. It was this particular sight that he couldn’t quite place. Of all his memories of his homeworld, Mon El had never remembered this one. And yet, here he was. It was then that a bright yellow flag caught his attention. It was the flag of the Daxam empire, swaying with the wind in the distance.

That was when he saw her.

A woman, much older than Mon El, was leading an army of thousands of soldiers to war. He didn’t recognize her right away, as her eyes were covered with a tinted plate. But when she lifted the plate, and he saw her familiar eyes, he instantly knew.

That was his mother. Queen Leanne Rell of Daxam.

Seeing her baffled him for many reasons, the main one being that he had never remembered who his birth mother was on all his time on Earth. Long travel in deep space had snatched away every memory of his parents, leaving him only with recollections of Var Eth and his home world. And yet, seeing her, Mon El had no doubt in his mind about who she was. He had never felt surer about anything else. He could see his mother. Remember her.

He wanted to call out to her. Tear open the tent and run towards her. But he couldn’t. Instead, he found himself looking down at his own reflection in the glass mirror. 

Expecting to see his face, Mon El was completely taken aback when he stared in the eyes of a small kid instead.

It was at this moment that he had woken up to reality. 

At first, he had considered it as a hallucination, but now, as Mon El thought back to that moment, he realized that it may have been much more than that. Because a simple dream couldn’t recreate the details that he had experienced. A hallucination couldn’t create all the emotions that he felt in that moment when he had seen that woman.

It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.

He didn’t know how exactly, but the tracker-jacker venom had somehow jogged up the memories about his mother that Mon El had considered to be lost when he had first landed on Terra. It was a lot to take in. And the constant pain in his neck, arm and leg was certainly not helping.

Rubbing his forehead in frustration, his attention was caught by what must’ve been Kara’s fifth attempt to hunt down a squirrel.

“Could you stop that” he snapped.

“Stop what?” she asked.

“You keep glancing over to me while you’re hunting. It’s causing you to miss every time.” When she didn’t say anything to defend herself, he continued, “You already have my hands tied up and you won’t let me do any work. You don’t need to be so over-defensive.”

“I’m not being over-defensive” she replied and he noticed a crinkle between her brows.

“Then what do you call this, exactly?” he asked, suddenly feeling annoyed.

“I call it being cautious. I’m sorry if I don’t trust a Career right away. I mean you chose to be here. I know what you guys are capable of, as long as it means bringing back glory or whatever.”

“No, you don’t” Mon El said, raising his volume a little. He knew it wasn’t like him to display his annoyance so openly, yet he continued. “You don’t know anything about me. So stop trying to pretend like you have me all figured out. You don’t know me. And need I remind you that you volunteered to be here as well, not just me.”

“I had my reasons.”

“Well so did I!” 

A long moment of silence passed, as Rue hurried out of their shelter to see what was causing all the noise. Finally taking in a deep breath, Mon El was the first one to look away. Almost instantly, Kara did the same as she turned and resumed hunting. Withing the next few moments, she brought back two rabbits.

* * *

Kryptonite was a radioactive and reactive chemical. When Kara had filled the cave with a chemically rich smoke, it had reacted with some of the Kryptonite on her pin, causing traces of the green chemical to fill the air around her. That was why she had fainted. That would’ve been why she would be dead, if it weren’t for the man sitting in front of him. To add to it, he had gotten stung. Injured, because he had chosen to rescue her from her own mistakes. He had even prevented Rue from entering the cave herself. He truly had saved both their lives. The least she could do was nurse him back to health. 

But it didn’t mean she liked any of it. Because at the end of the day, he was still a Career. Working with a Career was still a big risk for Kara. He had even saved Rue from perishing in the bloodbath. She argued with herself that that was the only reason he was still here. At that, she was reminded of the time he had spotted her hiding behind bushes and had kept quiet about it. He had saved her even then.

Before she could think about the why behind it all, her train of thoughts was interrupted.

“Could you help, please. I would ask Rue but she’s asleep.”

She looked over to him as he held the medicine box in his hands and gestured towards his injured forearm. His hands were tied and so he couldn’t quite apply the medicine on the wound on his arm. Wordlessly she got up and walked over to where he was sitting. Taking the box from him, she applied some of the medicine on the red spot on his arm, noticing how he winced on even the slightest contact. In that moment, Kara felt quite sorry for him.

It was decided that since they were in an alliance now, both Kara and Mon El would take turns for keeping watch at night. It was Mon El’s turn right now, but Kara, being Kara, had decided to stay up as well. As she noticed just how much pain he was in, she could tell how desperately he needed to rest. But something told Kara that if she simply asked him to sleep, he would refuse her offer. Instead, she tried something else.

“You should sleep. I’ll take watch for the rest of the night” she said, as he looked at her in confusion.

“What?” he asked. “Why?”

Kara considered her words before replying, “Well, I’m not sleepy anyway and the fact remains. I still don’t trust you.”

He huffed, an unbelieving look on his face. But to her relief, didn’t say much more, except, “Unlike you, I will actually take you up on that offer, gratefully” before leaning his head on the tree trunk and almost immediately falling asleep.

Just like that, she was left with her thoughts. Just like that she was alone again.

‘Well, not really.’

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was look around him. The sun was shining bright in the sky, the trees were swaying with the light breeze. Overall, everything felt pleasant.

Wait.

It took him several seconds to realize, but when he did, he found abundant relief wash over him. There was no pain anymore. He looked down at his arms and legs only to find them completely healed. He touched his neck to find that a scar was the only remaining evidence of his injury. He simply couldn’t believe it. The medicine from the Capitol had worked wonders. Almost like magic

In his excitement, he accidentally woke up Kara who was intently sleeping (lightly snoring even) by the tree a few feet in front of him. She suddenly realized that she hadn’t managed to stay awake and with panic-stricken eyes, checked the tent where Rue was still fast asleep, only to find that everything was fine for now. Just then, out of nowhere,

A flash of light engulfed everything in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I'd actually kill away my space puppies did you?! (At least not right away! *evil laughter!!*  
Also, I'm sorry for the delay, but I may have to delay the next chapter by a day as well. Exams are really taking up a lot of my time.  
Either way, I'll try to update within the week!
> 
> Until Next Time!


	18. Cape Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He was right (and she hated it)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That scene in 2x17 when Kara and Mon El are fighting and Kara accidentally punches him before he quickly says, "Hey it's me! It's me!!" Following that she just hurriedly says,  
"Oh I'm Sorry! I Am So Sorry!!"  
Yes, well that. That is what I would like to say for the delay. But more on that later, for now, enjoy the chapter!

'What the hell was that?!'

Blinded for a few seconds by the sudden ambush of white light, Kara blinked rapidly until her vision cleared. Around her, she saw Mon El do the same, grim expressions replacing the relief on his face from mere seconds ago. Gripping the bow in her hand a little tighter, Kara protectively stepped in front of tent that was occupied by a blissfully ignorant Rue, still sleeping peacefully, and carefully surveyed the surrounding area. When she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, she decided to make use of her X-ray vision just to be sure. When even that failed her, she simply waited in near-silence.

But for the longest time, nothing happened. 

Kara scanned the area again, noticing from the corner of her eye that Mon El was doing the same. Silence stretched on as the two of them, too spooked to speak or even move, remained rooted to their spots, refusing to let their guard down. Another long, quiet moment passed before suddenly the chirp of a mockingjay filled the air around them, startling them both. Seconds after, the sound of numerous birds filled the morning air, prompting everything around them back to normalcy. Just like that, the eerie atmosphere gave way to one that wasn't unusual in any sense, almost as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred in the first place. 

“That was… weird." It was Mon El who finally broke the silence, as Kara noticed that he looked more confused than serious. He glanced around him once again before bringing his attention back to his once injured arm. He turned to her and asked “You okay?” but she didn’t respond. She observed as he tried to flex his arm as best as he could, given the restriction that his tied wrist provided. In hindsight, tying his hands was perhaps a little over defensive. She had almost decided against it upon observing his wounds. She had felt sorry and guilty when Rue had told her of all the things that he had done to save them both. Ultimately however, she had weighed the situation logically. Nothing changed the fact that at the end of the day, she was dealing with a Career. As he was someone trained to be extremely lethal with weapons, it made sense to inhibit his ability to use weapons. Rue’s safety was all that mattered. Compared to her concern for the little girl, Kara’s guilt just didn’t stand a chance.

“What do you think that was?” Mon El interrupted her thoughts. She noticed how he now appeared more confused than worried. It unnerved her a little how easily he had gone from happy to spooked to carefree within seconds. It was yet another indication of how deceptive he could be; how much control he had over displaying his emotions. Little things like this one were why she couldn’t fully figure him out. Why frustration was the first thing that came to mind whenever she saw him. It was partly why she was against this forsaken alliance in the first place.

“Earth to Supergirl? You there?” he said upon receiving no response. To this however, she glared at him. She observed as he smiled, knowingly, upon seeing the angry look on her face. “So, is this how it’s gonna be? As long as Rue’s asleep, I’m just talking to thin air?”

She still didn't respond. Partly because she preferred not to. And partly because she was too busy thinking about the other thing about him that frustrated her. Calling her ‘Supergirl' he reminded her about how he was among the few people on Terra who knew exactly what the name  _ truly _ meant. To all of Panem, Supergirl was a creative concept brought to life by the amazing designer of District 12. It was a name given to the brave ‘superhero’ who could fly during her Chariot ceremony. Apart from that, the whole thing was but a myth; a story created to make the seemingly weak female tribute from 12 appear strong. In Kara’s case however, things were different. And along with the two persons who knew why, he was now a third.

It made her realize just how much the man (the alien) in front of her knew about her. It wasn’t enough that he was an alien himself, but to add to it, he knew her own origins as well. On the other hand, she knew nearly nothing about him except that he was strong like her (she assumed), could speak Kryptonian and his eyes glowed. Questions like where was he from, how did he land here, whether his planet was violent or civilized were still unanswered and just added to the already growing list of unknowns about him, thereby irking Kara even more.

Then there was the smile. The carefree, mockingly relaxed, irritating smile.

She noticed as he sighed, raising his hands in defeat before saying, “Well, I am going to go over there now,” he said pointing at a random direction away from the tent. “Hopefully that tree’s chattier than you and could tell me why there was a sudden flash of light in the forest” he smiled (sarcastically) before returning to where he had slept the previous night. She watched (incredulously thinking for a moment that he might actually start speaking to the tree) as he sat down with his back to the trunk and leaned his head by it.

And then closed his eyes and just like that decided to fall asleep.

“Are you actually sleeping right now?” she asked, unbelievingly. To this, he opened one eye, not bothering to even lift his head and looked at her.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. I mean it’s not like you’re gonna let me do much work around here as is,” he said gesturing to his tied hands. “So the best thing to do is sit back, relax and go with the flow,” he smiled before leaning his head back.

But before he could close his eyes this time, Kara disrupted his plan to unwind and said, “We’re in an alliance. I thought part of the deal was that you were gonna help us around here.”

“True, but I can’t help you if you won’t let me. You’ve tied my hands up, you won’t let me anywhere near weapons and you have a problem if I so much as gather rocks and sticks. I’m guessing collecting edibles is not an option either since I am, as you say a ‘dangerous, manipulative Career’. So what’s the point.” Receiving nothing but sputtering silence on her end, he smiled. Without needing to open his eyes, he could perceive the look that would adorn Kara's face, for he knew she couldn't argue with his logic. He was right (and she hated it). After another moment passed by in silence, he finally turned to face her and opened his eyes. “Of course if you were to, oh I don’t know, untie me, maybe I could be of some assistance and uphold my end of the alliance properly.”

“I’m not letting you go” she replied without missing a beat.

“Is it because I didn’t say please?” he asked with faux sincerity. “Cause you know in some situations please isn’t even that big of a thing. Is this not one of those situations?”

Kara was about to reply when a rustling sound coming from the tent caused them both to turn their attention towards it. Rue had woken up and was now busy adjusting the dangling flap of the tent. She looked at the two of them and smiled, her big brown eyes carrying remnants of sleep. She observed as Mon El smiled back warmly while Kara looked a bit annoyed. 

Instantly she knew. Everything was normal.

“What’s up? What all happened when I was asleep?” Rue asked innocently. Before Mon El could respond however, Kara intervened. 

“I’m going hunting” she said kneeling down besides Rue, turning her back to the boy sitting by the tree-trunk. “Would you like to join me? I can teach if you want?” Rue smiled and nodded, excitedly as the look on Kara’s face went from irked to happy. Over the days that she had spent with the girl from 11, Kara had found her optimism contagious. She was like a sister to her. One that she needed to protect at all costs from all the evil that was to be faced inside the arena. Rue’s smile had the ability to ease her mind. It resembled the comfort that Alura’s embrace provided. It was something she cherished; something she missed.

With that, she put away all thoughts about Mon El and focussed instead on the enthusiastic girl in front of her. Grabbing her hand, she led her towards her usual hunting path near their tent, away from where Mon El was sitting.

From behind them, she heard a sarcastic “By all means Rue, you’re learning from the best!” but she ignored it, along with the tiny chuckle that escaped Rue herself.

* * *

The flash of light appeared again. Just as suddenly; just as abruptly. Only this time, the panic in Kara’s mind was slightly more because this time, Rue was with her, away from the safety of their tent. Bright white light sustained for a few seconds, before just like last time, it disappeared completely. Another few seconds later, everything was back to normal. 

“What was that?” Rue asked in an apprehensive tone. She rubbed her eyes and hurriedly tried to wash the black away from them as the light rendered her almost entirely blind for a few long seconds. Kara was similarly affected, but found that her vision returned quicker than Rue’s. Upon seeing Rue in front of her, unharmed and safe, she relaxed a little.

“Not sure” she replied after Rue’s vision finally cleared and she faced Kara with a sigh of relief. “But it has happened twice now” Kara continued. “Once in the morning, when you were sleeping. And now.” Kara looked around her and scanned the surrounding area once again with her X-ray vision. But not unlike last time, she found nothing out of the ordinary. From what she had seen in previous Games, she knew that Gamemakers often tried to make things  _ interesting _ whenever there was a dull moment in the arena. Perhaps this was that. After all, ever since the tracker-jacker incident, not much had happened. For the past two days, there hadn’t been a single death announcement. While it was definitely a nice change of pace to know that people weren’t currently dying, it was also unnerving. It made her nervous. 

Protectively, she looked over at Rue and noticed a similar nervousness. Instantly, buried her emotions and concentrated on Rue. “Hey” she called her out of her reverie. “It’s probably nothing.” Giving her a reassuring smile, Kara held out her hand for her. “C’mon, I think I see a rabbit over there.” As Rue gladly accepted, they walked as quietly as possible until Kara gestured her to wait and pointed at a furry ball near the tree.

Carefully nocking an arrow, she took aim. Unlike all the other times that Kara had done it in the arena, this time, she used her enhanced abilities to aim properly. Focussing on nothing but the creature in front of her, she closed one eye and readied herself to shoot. Just then, a click from Rue’s feet besides her caused the rabbit to suddenly become aware of its surroundings. It started moving, running just as Kara was about to release the arrow.

All of a sudden, the world around her slowed down. She followed the tiny steps of the animal with her eyes, as it moved in slow motion. Quickly, without a second thought, she shifted her aim just enough and released the arrow. Doing so, she observed as the weapon flew from her bow and travelled in slow-motion towards its intended target. Slowly, it cut across thin air just as the rabbit too leapt in a similar speed. The two continued on their journey right until the very last moment when the arrow finally pierced the animal straight in the centre causing it to collapse on the spot.

Everything returned to normal speed as Kara looked besides her and observed an impressed Rue, clearly fascinated by her skills. Enthusiastically, she retrieved the dead animal, carefully studying the exact spot where the arrow had pierced it. “That was amazing!” she said as she handed Kara the arrow, surprise evident in her voice.

Kara smiled, as she realized just how much she had missed actually using her powers. With cameras everywhere, she knew, even before she entered the arena, that it would be simply impossible to openly use her powers without all of Panem shouting alien at their holo screens. But rather than giving up her powers entirely, like she had for the first few days in the arena, she resorted to using them as subtly as possible.

“How did you do that?” Rue asked, Kara realized, with a tone of surprise. “How are you so awesome at this?”

“I’ve always been awesome” Kara said with a playful smile. “I’ve just been pretending to be terrible in front of that guy from 2.” To this, Rue grinned, before scrunching up her eyebrows in evident confusion.

“Why don’t you like him?”

The question was simple. But enough to reduce Kara’s bright smile to a mild one. She tried her level best to answer truthfully, as she said, “because he’s not a nice person.” Strangely, Kara felt a crinkle forming between her brows as she surprisingly found what she had said hard to believe herself.

“But he helped us” Rue countered. “He saved me at the Cornucopia and the cave and he got you out in time and saved you too.”

‘And he saved you from the Career from 4 and he didn’t out your secret’ a voice in Kara’s head continued.

“Doesn’t that make him a good person? Like you?” Rue asked.

“He’s not like me” Kara quickly replied. “He’s… ” she tried hard to think of a way to end that statement but found it was actually more difficult than she imagined. Because was there really a clear way in which she could end that statement. Did she truly know enough about him to end the sentence truthfully? Would she ever be able to figure him out for who he really was? And ironically, from what she did know, he was more similar to her than different. In many ways, he was more like her than anyone she had ever met on Terra.

“He’s complicated.”

* * *

“Three rabbits in an hour. That’s impressive!” Mon El remarked mockingly, as he saw his allies return from the dense jungle. Kara had half a mind of responding with an equally sarcastic response, noticing how he seemingly hadn’t moved from the same spot for the entire time that they were gone, but stopped herself as she observed Rue. The little girl ran towards him and all but showed off their kill. “I brought this one out of its shelter” she proudly presented the third rabbit before excitedly giving him a detailed description of the adventure that was hunting. In return, Mon El matched her in her enthusiasm, listening to each part with seemingly undivided attention.

This was another reason why Kara hadn’t favoured the alliance. To her, finding Rue had been a boon in disguise. It had been an opportunity, a chance of survival for them both. Ever since she had landed on Earth, Kara had found it burdensome to justify defending her own life. She hated being vulnerable and having to choose her life over someone else’s made her feel exactly that. But when she was to protect someone else, it became a lot easier. Guilt was quickly replaced by determination when she set her mind to saving Rue.

To add to it, she found the little girl’s company calming. The time that she had spent with her had introduced her to a completely different side of the human species. One that was kind and innocent. When she thought about it, Rue didn't belong here at all. A sweet girl like her just didn't fit here in between all the madness. In a world where contorted concepts like the Hunger Games existed. She was too young. Too naive. But above all, she was always optimistic. On the days that Kara spent with her, it never felt like she was in an arena, fighting for her life. She could just pretend like Rue wasn't a tribute in the Games, but rather a girl that she had met in the forest by District 12. 

But the arrival of the Career from 2 had cut her daydream short. It had brought her back to the harsh reality where she was just another player fighting for a chance at survival. Where every second that passed by without death was considered a luxury. Because she wasn't back home where she could truly protect Rue from it all. She was in the arena for the 74th Annual Hunger Games.

She was in hell.

And he was another reminder of it. The weapons that he carried, alone were an indication of the dangers that the arena held within it. True that he had used those very weapons to save them, but it didn’t mean that things couldn’t change. After all, life and death were only seconds apart. To add to it, accepting help from a stranger was always risky. Especially when hers and Rue’s death meant a chance at life for him.

Of course that wasn’t how Rue had seen it. She had been completely okay with accepting his help, so much so that she had embraced it entirely. Right from the moment that Kara had woken up upon escaping (being rescued from) the caves, she had seen Rue tending to an unconscious Mon El with great care. She had been nothing but praise for him, talking on endlessly about how he had bravely saved them both. She didn't see Mon El as the traitorous villain that Kara did, but rather as a virtuous hero. Maybe she was right. Maybe she was naive. 

And Mon El had responded just as affectionately. Ever since he had woken up the day before, he had talked to Rue with a kind of sincerity that Kara knew simply couldn’t be faked. In less than a day they had become friends. Conversations flowed easily between the two as it reminded Kara of a caring brother-sister relationship. She remembered how Mon El had mentioned that he had a sister back home. How she had given him the necklace on his last day in 2. Perhaps that was why he was such a natural with Rue. 

Kara just hoped it wasn’t a ploy. (More for his sake than hers)

Deciding to return the bow and arrow back in the tent, she made her way towards it as the Rue moved on to tell Mon El all about the fascinating plants that she had found in the forest. She walked two steps before stopping short.

Because the tent wasn’t there.

“Where’d the tent go?” she asked, looking all around her. She noticed Rue too looked equally confused when Mon El spoke up.

“Oh that’s actually- it’s right there. I uh- I camouflaged it a bit more” he said, pointing to a tree where the tent used to be. It was only when Kara squinted a little and looked carefully, did she see the greenish plastic flap of their tent. It was hidden in plain sight. 

“You did that?” she asked with raised eye brows.

“I know, I know I’m not supposed to do anything but before you yell at me, let me remind you that you guys were gone for an entire hour and I had nothing to do.” he responded, appearing a little bored from having to explain himself over and over again. Before he could continue any further however, Kara intervened.

“Thank you. That- that’s really good. I can’t even see it.”

“Oh. That’s um- you’re welcome” he said, taken by surprise, while Rue too looked startled, but pleasantly so.

Before either one of them could say any more however, the bright flash reappeared, stunning them yet again. Just like last time, it came without warning and left just as quickly.

“That’s the third time today” Mon El said as he blinked away his obscure vision. “What does it mean?”

“Not sure. It just comes and goes out of nowhere and every time it’s the same duration. I counted this time, 5 seconds.” Kara replied.

The response surprised Mon El on two turfs. He was relieved that the girl from 12 was finally at least responding. To add to it, he was actually glad for her incredibly attentive skills. 

“It’s like a power surge” it was Rue who spoke up this time. “You know when the lights suddenly get too bright.”

A few moments later neither Rue nor Kara thought much about that theory, as they quickly got busy with preparing something edible out of what they had caught during their day hunting. But right after that moment, Mon El remained deep in thought about something. It wasn’t until Kara had called him twice, before he was pulled back to reality and joined them for lunch.

“You okay?” Rue asked.

“Yeah” he replied with knitted eyebrows. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

* * *

It appeared to be mid afternoon when the three of them were sitting quietly, Rue practicing her aim with small knives while Kara and Mon El sat by adjacent tree trunks, both deep in thought.

Ordinarily, Kara was the last person to share her thoughts. Especially when they involved her concerns. After all, growing up on a foreign planet, her concerns had almost always been  _ alien _ to everyone. Perhaps that was why, for she wasn’t exactly sure what made her say what she said next.

“She doesn’t deserve this.”

Mon El turned to face her as he suddenly registered that she was talking to him. Keeping her voice as low as possible, she continued.

“She’s so young, you know.”

Observing the look on her face, Mon El could tell that she was probably talking more to herself than to anybody else. She continued to look at the girl in front of her. Rue had carved up a cross on a tree and was trying (and failing) to hit it with a knife from a few feet away.

“She’s thirteen!” Kara exclaimed. “She deserves to learn new things, not worry about dying in the next moment.” Still not turning to face Mon El, she continued in a hushed tone, “I keep trying to think of ways I can teach her stuff. Things she would probably be learning about if her name hadn’t come up in the reaping. That was why I took her hunting today. I thought maybe I could teach her. It didn’t work. She’s terrible, to be honest.”

Her final statement earned her a chuckle from Mon El, causing her to turn and look at him, causing her to smile a little too. “I know I’m not an expert myself. But that’s not the point okay!” When Mon El continued smirking, fake-controlling his laughter, she huffed. “You know what, forget it. You’re just gonna mock me no matter what I say. Just forget I said anything.”

It was at that moment that he finally spoke up, “No I’m not laughing at you. I’m just…laughing.” When the look on her face returned to its former, angrier self, he finally stopped. “No, seriously, I was just thinking about what you said.” He fell quiet after that though, appearing deep in thought about something. After quite a long while he spoke up yet again. “You’re absolutely right.” In confusion, she looked at him as he abruptly called out to Rue. He then proceeded to stand up while both Kara and Rue continued to watch him.

“I wanna tell you something” he said, addressing Rue. “I think it’s better if I show you though.” With that, he closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them.

What Kara saw next surely must’ve been a mistake. A trick that her eyes were playing on her. She blinked once. And then twice. But nothing changed. She stared, as Mon El’s eyes glowed brightly in contrast to the afternoon sun. His eyes shone like two brightly lit, bluish orbs. Like electricity was flowing though them. Rue was stunned. Kara even more so.

But even that didn’t prepare for the utter disbelief that she felt in the next moment. 

Because Mon El bent his knees slightly and before either of them knew, gently lifted off from the ground.

He was flying.

He hovered up near the top branches of the nearby tree and remained there for a little while. He looked down and observed the tributes from 11 and 12 utterly shocked. Rue looked shocked beyond words, a facial appearance that Kara somewhat matched but with doubled intensity. Satisfied with the reactions that he had received, he slowly descended and gracefully landed back on his feet.

Silence.

As much as Mon El loved watching them speechless, he knew that time was running out, so he needed to be quick. “So, I know what you’re probably thinking-”

“What the hell was that?!” Kara all but shouted at his face.

“Alright calm dow-” He tried to explain but was interrupted by a shocked Kara again.

“What did you do?!”

Instead of addressing her again, this tie, he turned to Rue who it seemed had temporarily lost the ability to string words together.

“I can fly” he said, knowing from the look on her face that he had Rue’s undivided attention. “I can run really fast in superspeeds. My hearing and vision is enhanced and I can control electricity.” He was about to be interrupted by Kara again but he quickly continued, “I have these abilities that the yellow sun gives me. Abilities that no other human has. And the reason is simple.”

“I’m not human.”

He paused for a few seconds for Rue to register whatever he had just said. He knew the little girl was probably more afraid than fascinated at this point but time was running short. Hopefully he could convince her not to freak out before he passed out.

“I know this must be a lot to take in.” he said, kneeling down next to her. “But I want you to know that I have never told this to anyone except my family. You’re the first person who’s not from District 2 who now knows my secret. And you know how the Capitol would react to something like this. So I’m asking this as a favour. Could we please… keep this between us?”

It was the moment of truth. Mon El studied Rue’s expression while also listening with his super-hearing for any unwanted people approaching. Rue was deep in thought. Kara was flabbergasted.

After a few seconds, when Mon El’s super-hearing began to fade a little, to his relief, Rue looked up at him and gave him a warm smile. Much like the one that he had given her when he had wanted to convince her that he wasn’t going to kill her. At that moment, he knew, telling Rue was not a mistake. The poor girl was stuck in such a terrible situation. She deserved to lear as much as possible before the Games took that opportunity away from her.

The smile quickly faded to worry as Rue asked, “But there are cameras everywhere” Kara turned to her, happy that someone finally understood the repercussions of what he had just done. “You just revealed your powers to all of Panem.”

Kara turned to Mon El, expecting him to frown in fear or something along those lines. Instead he behaved quite the opposite, as his lips curled into a short smile instead.

“Actually, I didn’t. I can control electricity.” Looking at still confused faces, he continued, “When you said that the flashes of light could be like a power surge, it got me thinking. The entire arena is heavily dependent on electricity. The gamemakers use all kinds of electronics to make all this, I mean most of these trees aren’t even real. They’re what is known as augmented reality. It reminded me of this experiment that Winn, um- my friend and I did when we were young. We had broken into the surveillance room of our District training centre and we wanted to see if I could control the cameras that they had in every room. Turned out that not only could I manipulate the devices however I wanted, but also, that I could create like a dome of augmented reality around me.”

“So even if I just flew right now and told you all those things about me, all of Panem simply saw us sitting like were and just talking about hunting.”

“But how can you be sure?” it was Kara who spoke up this time, voicing her worries.

“Well, for a news as big as this, I’m pretty sure the Games would’ve been interrupted by now but seeing as they’re not, I’m guessing it’s working. So that’s not the problem. The problem is that larger the AR dome that I have to create, more is the power that I need. So, if I keep doing this for too long, I start to lose my powers gradually. My nose starts to bleed and I pass out.”

Kara still looked worried, while Rue was concerned. Looking at him in the eyes, she said sincerely, “I won’t tell anyone.” It made him smile in admiration. He held in great regard the girl’s ability to face any situation with a smile. After all, she was a thirteen year old Terran, reaped to be in a death-match and had just been told that the guy in front of her was an alien. But even through all that, she didn’t mind. She smiled and Mon El knew, yet again, that this was the right decision.

Turning to Kara, he said, “You were right. A girl like Rue doesn’t deserve to be here. She deserves to learn about anything and everything under the sun. Or in my case, above it!” he joked. Turning back to Rue, he said, “If you want, I can tell you all the things I know about my homeworld. In breaks of course. We’ll have to work out a system to ensure that the AR’s are as real as possible so the people outside don’t find out that something’s wrong.”

“What was the name of your home planet?” Rue asked curiously. It made Mon El smile. For the first time in so long on Terra, he had been asked about home. His home. He couldn’t help but feel a little delighted as he answered,

“Daxam.”

* * *

Noticing that his nose had begun bleeding, Rue called time on their session. She walked over to the front of their tent and replaced the rock in its proper place with the unmarked side up. As soon as she did so, Mon El stopped projecting. It was the system that they had worked out. Whenever the marked side of the rock was facing up, it meant that Mon El was projecting a dome. It was quite subtle, as this way the three of them could communicate effectively without having to say words like ‘AR dome’ or ‘alien’. (Two of them, considering how Kara was still staying away from the entire thing, like she wanted nothing to do with any of it.)

In just a few hours, Mon El had learned that Rue was an excellent student. She was curious and fascinated about different worlds that existed outside of her own home. She had asked him numerous questions about Daxam, all of which he had answered gladly and truthfully. The sun was beginning to set by the time their Q&A session was over. But not before Rue asked one final question.

“Do you any other aliens that live here?”

As simple as the question may have been, it had the ability to raise the eyebrows of the alien to whom the question was directed (and startle the other alien who was busy prepping the tent for the dark.)

Kara was taken aback. In fact, she had been like this ever since the boy from 2 had, so openly, told Rue everything about him being an alien. Now that she thought back to it, she had been surprised from even before then, as she had for the first time in so long, opened up about how she truly felt about something in the arena. And that too to a Career from 2.

Either way, she had been worried. But Rue’s latest question frightened her. She knew there was no harm in telling Rue. She had wanted to do it herself for so long. But she was quite unsure about Mon El’s abilities to keep everything from the rest of Panem. Did his abilities really work? What if there was a flaw he hadn’t considered? What if they were on their way to pick him up right now? For all these reasons, she had kept quiet. She had ensured to behave not unlike Rue in that she was shocked too upon finding out Mon El’s revelation.

But now, Rue had asked him directly. She had asked about something that Kara was hoping would never come up. Whether he knew an alien apart from himself. Whether he had ever met an off-worldly being on Terra.

Kara hated this. Throughout her time on Terra, exactly two people knew about who she really was. But after hearing about the incident with Kall, she had refused to reveal her identity to anyone. Fear dominated her mind every single time. It was why even her best friend Eve didn’t know. Not because she never had the opportunity to tell her, but rather because she always chose not to tell her. But now the ability to choose was gone. Now her identity would be revealed to Rue and possibly all of Panem. The secret that she and her parents worked so hard on keeping, would probably be outed to the world.

“Nope. Just me.”

Kara opened her eyes while her thoughts came to a stop abruptly. She relaxed her hand, which she had unknowingly balled into a fist and turned to look at him. One look at his face and she could practically hear what he wanted to say.

‘It’s your secret to tell’ he would assure her. When he looked at her, he simply smiled, but Kara could see the sincerity behind that smile. It surprised her, but not as much as it had before when he hadn’t outed his secret the last time. Now, a part of her actually expected this outcome. It told her that he would never out her to the world. It assured her that he would never put her secret in danger.

She was about to say something, but couldn’t think of a way to phrase what she had in mind properly. As Rue turned the stone, Kara thought about a way to convey to him that she was grateful for his reply. But before she could do so,

A low growl reverberated across the forest. Instantly, both Mon El and Kara turned towards the direction of the sound. It was a deep rumble, one that could be thought of as belonging to an animal, but it was unlike any Terran animal Kara had ever known. The sound vanished for a few seconds before it returned, this time with a much greater intensity.

The sound kept getting louder. Whatever it was, was getting close.

“What the hell was that?” was the last thing Mon El said before the madness ensued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly apologize for the delay, but exams really took up a lot of my time and I just couldn't help it. But not to worry because exams are FINALLY OVER!! (Well they have been over for the past two days now but the EXCITEMENT IS THE SAME!!)  
What can I say about this chapter. It was actually meant to be a sort of buffer before the next big thing, but I figured that I could include a very special something so instead this is what I came up with.  
Two things:  
1\. Kara is the sweetest thing in the world. Earth does not deserve her at all. All she has wanted ever since she has met Rue is to keep her safe and happy. I think one of the reasons why she is so hell-bent on protecting Rue (apart from the obvious ones), is that she never had a sister like Mon El had Maya. She had to constantly take care of herself and after Krypton, I think the guilt would just keep building up to the point where she would desperately keep looking for a way to redeem herself by protecting someone else.  
2\. Did Mon El just do that?!! Yes. Yes he did...! I actually really like how the reveal turned out. Hopefully you all did too. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments so please, do let me know.
> 
> Also... As a sincere apology for not being able to post for the past 7 days (no it's been 7 YEARS!) I would like to cover up for it by posting the next chapter in a couple of hours. I'll be posting Chapter 19 before we reach (20)20!!!  
Until next time (in a few hours!)


	19. To kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was the beginning of something new."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said a few hours, didn't I....?!

It was the beginning of something new.

In the arena, that almost always meant death. It was why neither tribute was particularly looking forward to what lay ahead.

The growling increased in volume. Slowly. Steadily. Like a crescendo in a melody meant specifically to scare its audience. Kara stilled. Besides her, Mon El and Rue did the same. At first the sound wasn’t loud enough, perceivable only by the beings with enhanced abilities in the group. But now, even Rue could hear it. It was certainly getting louder.

Or nearer.

All of a sudden, evening light of the setting sun was replaced with near darkness. Panicked, the three of them tried to look around them to try and understand just what was going on. A second later, the surge of light was back, affecting them much more than last time, owing to the contrasting darkness that it was preceded by. Bright white light covered every inch of the ground around them, making it impossible to even open their eyes, let alone see. 

What was worse, was that unlike all the times before when the bright flash had occurred, it didn’t vanish within five seconds this time. It lingered on, rendering the three of them completely blind. Ten, twenty and then a little over half a minute passed by, but the lights didn’t give. Kara quickly trained on her hearing to try to get a better handle on the situation. But after a few seconds, a splitting headache took over her as she painfully clutched her head and resorted to covering her eyes with her hand to block out the excessive light.

And then suddenly, it was gone.

Slowly, she brought her hands down, the remnants of her headache, making it more difficult than usual to regain her vision. Blinking several times, she finally attained a somewhat focussed view of the sight in front of her. The first person she looked for was Rue. She was standing near her, both hands still covering her eyes. Slowly, a little dazed from the long exposure of light, she tried to clear her vision and faced Kara. Once she was sure that Rue was otherwise alright, she turned her attention to Mon El. 

He was clutching his head in his hands while trying to cover his eyes with his tied wrists. She noticed how he still hadn’t opened his eyes, while an expression of pain was engraved on his face. So he had experienced the headache too, just like her. While Rue certainly looked in discomfort, she wasn’t in pain, leading Kara to believe that the headache was an alien thing. Perhaps the prolonged exposure had overwhelmed their enhanced abilities.

With that, Kara tried her best not to let the pain show on her own face. Besides her, she saw Mon El arriving at the same conclusion, as he opened his eyes and looked around him. Instead, she decided to focus on the situation at hand. Unlike the last three times, this flash of light had lasted for nearly a minute. Maybe it meant something. 

In all the confusion caused, no one noticed that the growling had gotten much louder.

“Is everyone okay?’ Mon El asked. He looked at Rue as she nodded but kept quiet. He shifted his gaze to Kara who looked at him with worried eyes. Before he could register her response to his question however, in a split second, a loud growl distracted him.

The next thing he knew a blunt force hit him in the abdomen and all but threw him a few feet back.

“Mon El!” Rue called out as Kara stared in shock. For the longest time, she could neither believe nor comprehend the sight in front of her. Just a second ago, Mon El had regained his senses and was asking whether they were okay, In the next he was attacked by something bizarre. It was still dark, so she still couldn’t get a proper glimpse at the beast. It was only when she registered the low growl coming from the animal did she perceive what it was.

The sight alone was enough to terrify her.

It was unlike anything Kara had ever seen in her entire life. Four-legged, like a wolf, it stood in the dark with its head raised, like a predator staring at its prey. It breathed in growls, seething rage spilling from the sound. In shape and size, it resembled a wild bear but instead of fur, its skin consisted of scales. Short, sharp ivory white teeth extended from its scaly mouth as it growled at its opponent who was currently on the ground, recovering from the initial blow from his attacker. 

The sight of Mon El trying to get back on his feet jump jolted Kara’s brain life, as she jumped straight to action. Grabbing the bow in her hand tightly, she drew an arrow from the sheath and pointed the weapon at the beast as it pounced on Mon El again. She was about to release the arrow when all of a sudden, a second growl echoed behind her. She turned on the spot and saw a similar beast approaching her and Rue, running at an inhuman speed. Without a second thought, she locked in on her target and fired the arrow at the beast’s scaly body.

For the second time within only a few moments, what she saw in front of her shocked her. Because the arrow went straight through it without so much as scarring its beastly form. Instead, of lodging itself in the beast’s skin, it flew straight through it, as though the beast was nothing more than thin air. Needless to say, the beast remained unaffected as it sped towards its two victims. Kara shot another arrow but quickly realized that it wasn’t working. Time was running out, as she saw it approach closer. It was then that she noticed that Rue, shell shocked was frozen on the spot in front of her. 

Without thinking twice, she reached over and grabbed her shoulder. Instantly pulling her behind, she positioned herself in between Rue and the beast. She helped her kneel on the ground and stood over her, shielding her from the deadly animal as the beast leapt in the air, reaching a height almost a foot above Kara. Kara prepared for the worst.

But nothing came.

Just when the beast’s unnaturally sharp teeth would have sunken into Kara’s arm, it vanished entirely. It transformed into dust right in front of her and fell to the ground. Befuddled from the sight, she quickly turned to Rue and ensured that she was okay. While the girl was recovering from shock, behind her, Mon El struggled with the hungry beast, that seemed much too keen to end his prey’s life. Kara thought, hoped that it would disappear like the second one, but it didn’t. Instead, it ruthlessly tried to crush Mon El’s skull with its deadly claws. 

Recovering from her own shock, she quickly nocked another arrow and aimed it at the beast. At that moment, Mon El gained a somewhat upperhand in the fight, as he rolled from underneath and pinned the beast down on the ground. The struggle made it very difficult for Kara to get a proper shot and made it even easier to accidentally hit Mon El instead. She lowered the weapon as the clash in front of her stretched on. That was when she noticed why Mon El was having such a tough time overpowering the beast. His hands were tied.

Before Kara could think any more about it, she turned to the sound of another beast approaching her from the side. This time when she shot the arrow, it lodged itself in the animal’s belly, causing it to drop dead a few feet away. Behind her, she heard Rue calling out to her as two more beasts emerged from the forest.

Mon El tried his level best to avoid the beast’s razor-sharp teeth as he moved his head away at the last second, everytime it the beast tried to bite him. He had neither the time, nor the proper state of mind to recover from the shock that the sudden ambush had caused. Fortunately, he was trained for scenarios such as this. It was why he was still alive. It was why he was still breathing.

The problem was that his hands were tied. He knew from instinct that the first thing he needed to do in order to win in a fight with this outrageous beast was to find a weak spot. Something that he could target. Something that could help him gain the upper hand. But with his wrists tied firmly, there was little he could do, but struggle and get out of the way before the beast could make him its meal.

With great difficulty, he managed to poke it in the eye. Startled, it fell a few steps behind, giving Mon El ample time to get back up on his feet. Once he was standing, he stuck his hands together and hit the beast with an uppercut to its jaw using all force in both his arms. As it was about to fall on its back, he struck again, this time kicking its enormous, scaly claws. On its back, Mon El sunk to his knees and struck the monster on its abdomen with his elbows. 

The beast howled.

It hated how suddenly its prey had become an attacker. It did not take Mon El’s ambush lightly. Angrier and even more audacious than before, it pushed itself from the ground and pounced on Mon El, causing him to fall on his back. With the weight of the enormous beast on his tied hands, he found that he couldn’t move. He tried to struggle out of reach, but couldn’t. Just as the beast was about to strike his skull with its teeth, suddenly, it went limp and fell to the ground.

A second passed. Then another. Mon El realized that somewhere along the fight he had closed his eyes shut. As he opened them, he saw a most ghastly sight. With how close the beast’s face was, he could see it with a new clarity. It revealed just how terrifying the thing was. Scar-like lines ran all across its face while its scaly forehead appeared as though it was tied back somehow. Two black dots took up the place for its eyes, surrounded by thick, green eyelids. 

With every bit of his strength, Mon El pushed the dead beast away and slowly got up. Annoyedly, he noticed that the piece of rope that was tying his hands was intact even after the long struggle. The knot was in place, almost unaffected by the struggle. He huffed as he thought about how the very girl who had tied his hands in the first place, had now shot the beast and saved him.

“Thank you” he said, just a little sarcastically, trying to convey the mixed feelings he had about Kara wherein on one hand he was annoyed but also grateful. Looking down at where the arrow had stuck the animal, he remarked, “That was a clean shot.”

“That wasn’t me” Kara said from behind him, causing him to turn. As he observed the scene, he saw that there lay another beast by Kara’s foot. It took both of them a few seconds to consider what she had just said. However, when they did, Kara clutched the bow tightly while lines of worry etched on Mon El’s face.

They had company.

Turning to Rue, Kara called her name and whispered, “Hide.” It was a code that the two of them had worked out. Rue was quite fast on her feet. But she was even better at climbing trees. Wordlessly, as soon as she heard Kara, she scuttled towards the nearest tree and climbed it, disappearing behind the thick coat of branches. Kara looked around her and observed as Mon El had the same serious look on his face as he did when the flash of light had first appeared. She followed his line of sight and looked behind her in the distance.

Based on the angle at which the arrow had hit the beast, Mon El deduced the direction it had come from. He kept his eyes peeled, looking for the intruder who had shot the arrow. If he couldn’t see the attacker and the beast had been shot with such precision, it meant that whoever they were dealing with worked well with arrows. The biggest advantage of being an archer, was that there was no need for much proximity. Knife combat required the person to be on the field. But not an archer. He or she could hide in plain view and strike when the victims least expected it.

For that, he was glad Rue was already out of sight. 

“You need to untie me” he said turning to Kara, holding his hands up. Rather than agreeing to it right away, Kara hesitated, annoying Mon El a little more. “C’mon! We don’t have time. There’s an attacker out there.”

Wait.

Mon El fell quiet as he considered his own words.  _ An _ attacker? How was he sure about that? Both Kara and Mon El were facing the same direction. What if the archer was just a distraction? With that thought in mind, he turned. Midway however, a large arm grabbed him from behind and tried to lock him in place. The attacker locked Mon El’s neck with his left arm while in his right hand, he held a long spear pointed at Kara. In order to be able to throw the spear, the attacker couldn’t stand directly behind Mon El. Instead he had to stand a little to the side to get sufficient space for the throw. 

That was his first mistake.

Not wasting a single second, Mon El pulled his tied hands up and jabbed his attacker on the abdomen with his elbows, causing him to drop the spear. It loosened the grip that he had on his neck creating some gap between him and Mon El. Quickly using the opportunity to free himself. Mon El grabbed on to the forearm that was dangerously close to his neck and clawed it away from him. As he turned to face the attacker, he recognized him. It was the boy from 11. Thresh, he remembered. 

He waited for Thresh to make the next move, which he did by aiming a punch to his face which Mon El dodged easily. Thresh however, expected his opponent to dodge and using his other wrist grabbed Mon El’s arm with a steely grip. He quickly recognized that his opponent’s hands were tied and so using it to his own advantage, twisted his arm, causing Mon El to lose his balance. As he nearly fell to the ground, Thresh pulled back and punched him. Mon El backed away a little but remained on his feet. Exhaling slowly, he waited again for his opponent to make the first move. When Thresh tried to punch him again, Mon El was prepared and kicked his opponent’s feet off the ground. As he tumbled, Mon El, recognizing that the man wasn’t as quick on his feet moved to stand behind him. Raising his arms he looped over Thresh’s neck he locked him in place in a chokehold. He struggled, but slowly weakened as his eyes began to close. 

Several seconds later, Mon El eased an unconscious Thresh to the ground. But he was aware that Thresh was a strong man and would likely be waking any minute. Eager to put as much distance before him and himself, Mon El turned to walk away when all of a sudden he saw Kara pointing an arrow at him.

“Wha-no!” he said just as the arrow left the bow. He raised his arms in surrender and ducked his head. A second later something felt different. All of a sudden, he realized what the arrow was actually aimed at. He suddenly felt his wrists were free and realized that the arrow had cut through the ropes and hit a beast directly behind him.

‘Impressive’, he thought.

“Thank you” he said as he stretched his arms, relishing the newly attained freedom. Twisting his wrists, he realized that he hadn’t been able to move them in so long. “Although next time, I would appreciate if you did that  _ before _ the fight began.”

Kara would have replied but just then they heard someone calling out Thresh.

‘The archer’ they both thought. Instantly Kara ducked behind a bush while Mon El hid in the opposite direction.

* * *

“Thresh! Where are you?!” Garret, the boy from District 5 hurriedly called out. He had done as he was asked and waited for Thresh to finish the job. Only, he hadn’t returned. 

Panicking now slightly, he looked around him, hoping to find out exactly what had happened. He kept walking when all of a sudden, he spotted someone in front of him. At first, he thought he was dead. It was therefore a shock when the man suddenly came to life and stood up. Garret had his arrow pointed at him but calmed down as soon as he recognized Thresh’s familiar form.

“They escaped” he said as he frantically looked all around him. Just then, he heard a noise from the tree above him. What he saw (rather  _ who _ he saw) stunned him. Slowly, and noiselessly, he picked up the spear by his foot and aimed it above him with shaky arms.

Garret too continued to survey the grounds when all of a sudden, he spotted some movement in the bushes.

That was when he saw her.

Kara Zorel. He remembered the name of the female tribute from District 12 because she had been the only non-Career to score an 11 in her individual assessment. It meant that she was dangerous. Instantly, he pointed his arrow at her. At first, he thought that she had seen him, for she too aimed an arrow at him. But then, he observed, incredulously, as she froze completely. She didn’t fire. It confused him a little, but he quickly recovered. He was about to release the arrow when all of a sudden, a hand appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the bow.

Mon El was so quick in his ambush, that even before Garrett could fully realize what had happened, Mon El pulled his wrist back and punched him in the face, all while maintaining a steady grip on the bow with his other hand. Just as Garrett began falling, in one swift movement, the boy from 2 snatched the bow away from him. Grabbing the arrow, he struck him before he fell to the ground. Next, in one swift motion, he grabbed a second arrow from the quiver that now lay behind him and aimed it at Thresh. He waited a second, as he observed a crying Thresh with the spear aimed at Rue on the tree. He heard a faint, “I’m sorry” coming from Thresh when Mon El whistled cutting though his apology abruptly. 

The sound of the whistle caused him to turn and face Mon El, shock clear in his eyes. As soon as Mon El was sure that the spear wouldn’t accidentally misfire and hurt Rue, he released the arrow.

The death canon struck twice, and everything went back to normal.

* * *

For the longest time Mon El kept staring at the spot where Thresh had collapsed. He wasn’t sure exactly when, but seeing Garret point the arrow at Kara and her freezing at the last moment, had jerked Mon El to action. In that moment, all he saw were the holograms similar to the ones he had killed during training. But now, all he could think of was how different it felt. Back in 2's training centre, the collapsed holograms would have disappeared by now. 

But the people in front of him didn't. 

Breathing became slightly difficult as the weight of his actions settled in. He wanted to scream. To turn back time and take it all back. But he didn’t let any of it show. Instead he just stood there in absolute silence.

When the hovercraft took the dead away, it was like a part of him was being snatched from him too. Because he was the reason that two innocent people were dead. He was the reason that they wouldn’t be able to return home to their families. He was a killer. A murderer. 

Could he ever return home himself?

A while passed before Kara emerged from hiding. Mon El could see her looking at him but neither of them said anything. In his mind however, Mon El knew what she must think of him now. He knew that if she wasn’t fully convinced that he was a dangerous killer before, after today, it surely must’ve sealed his fate in her mind. He expected her to end the alliance right away.

She didn’t.

* * *

They were sitting by the fire, too tired to speak. Neither wanted to acknowledge the events of the past, and yet all were thinking of the very same thing they were trying so hard to forget. It was getting dark. They hadn’t eaten anything since that morning, but neither seemed too keen to break the silence and bring it up.

Kara was the first one to snap out of it. She had always believed that whenever emotions failed, one must turn to logic instead. So that is exactly what she did. She viewed the situation logically. The facts were these.

Two tributes, very lethal, very willing to kill, had attacked them during the confusion that had already been caused by the beasts. In the end, Kara and Mon El had protected Rue. In the end, the three of them had survived. So, wasn’t that what translated to a win in the arena? To live another day. They had killed to do so, but Kara couldn’t blame anyone in this situation. 

Anyone but the Capitol.

After what happened, Kara felt as though for the first time since she had met him, she had an honest and clear opinion about him.

He was not a killer.

Protecting her and Rue from dangerous killer wasps was one thing. But to stand up to a situation as forlorn as this one meant something else entirely. Today, Mon El had shown her who he really was. He had proven to her that she was wrong about him. He was not the manipulative Career that she made him to be. But rather, an alien just like her, stuck in this hell.

One look at him and she could tell he was hurting.

“Could I talk to you?” she said, turning to him and breaking the heavy silence in the group. 

He was hesitant at first. Like he just wanted to be left alone, but as he noticed her touching her nose and signalling to him so Rue couldn’t hear, he understood and gave in.

The two of them walked over to the other side of the tent, away from Rue’s earshot. 

“You’re gonna yell at me again?” he asked with tired eyes.

“I’m not gonna yell at you again” she quickly replied. “Are we- can they see us now?”

“No, I’m projecting that we’re talking about hunting” he replied, referring to the AR dome that he had created.

She took in a deep breath before she began. “I wanna thank you. For everything you did. It was wrong of me to judge you based on where you came from. I know that I’ve been mean to you ever since we met. And I would like to apologize for that.”

Mon El was surprised. Taking advantage of his silence, she continued, albeit a little hesitantly.

“All my life on Terra, I’ve had to stand my ground. Growing up here was scary. I mean my Earth parents were great and they protected me from everything. But it didn’t change the fact that it was difficult adjusting to a foreign world. Especially one where I wasn’t welcome. There was always this fear. This alarm in my mind that would go off whenever I was faced with a situation where I had to be open about something. And entering the Games, it just became a lot harder. For the longest time I was alone. And I guess I had gotten used to that. I guess I kept telling myself that it was better that way.”

She paused before continuing. “And then you came along. And suddenly, I wasn’t the only alien on Terra. I mean you knew stuff that I remembered about Krypton and everything else. So I guess I kinda panicked. And because of that I kept writing you off. But you kept proving me wrong. After what happened today, it made me realize that I had been lying to myself. That having you around is the best way that I can protect Rue. After what you did today, I can say, truthfully, that I’m glad to have you on our side.” She ended with a short smile.

Mon El was speechless. 

For one, he understood exactly what she meant. Everything that she had said, he had felt himself growing up on Terra. But what honestly affected him was her ability to admit her wrongs. She had with absolutely no fear or regret admitted that she had been wrong. It proved to him that she wasn’t just some arrogant Kryptonian. She was kind. Someone with a generous heart. Someone willing to put her own fears and prejudices aside to ensure the safety of an innocent girl.

He smiled back, warmly. “Rue reminds me of my sister” he began. “She’s so young. She doesn’t deserve any of this.” Taking in a deep breath, he continued, “When I first left 2, I promised my family that I would return to them. That I would return home. But after what I did today, I don’t think I can” he said with a voice laced with pain as he remembered the deaths of the innocent beings that he had caused. “But Rues deserves to live, not just survive. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that she gets a chance to do that.”

His sincerity won her over. Her courage won him over.

“Of course I’m not gonna let you tie my hands again!” he joked, to which she smiled, even laughed a little. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since I’ve met you” he remarked with raised eyebrows.

“Why don’t we just start over?” she asked referring to their first meeting in the Capitol training centre. She offered him a hand and said, “Kara Zorel. District 12.”

He smiled as he accepted and replied, “Mon El Roqford. District 2.” She turned and was about to leave when he said, “Who would’ve thought? A boy from 2 and a girl from 12. Working together.”

“Why? Is it because you come from a District of bullies?” she asked with faux seriousness, playfully.

To this, he replied, “No, because you come from a District of nerds!” just as playfully. A second later, they both laughed.

With that Mon El went to hunt while Kara set up the tent for the night along with Rue. Over all they felt okay. Better than okay

For it was the beginning of something new.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize if the ending seems a little rushed. But I wanted to finish and post this before the end of the year and I am currently really late for New Year prep as I am typing this. Regular updates will resume from this week and I am so happy for our space puppies!
> 
> Unrelated to the story:  
Here's wishing all my readers a very Happy New Year 2020  
See you all next year!!(*bad joke laughter!*)


	20. Stronger Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "contain the fire."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light can be a very deceptive thing...
> 
> Also, it has come to my attention that due to the posting the previous two chapters a few hours apart on the same day, a few people didn't realize that I had updated twice. So, in case you haven't already, please read chapters 18 and 19 from last week before proceeding (to avoid some serious confusion!)

The air felt colder somehow.

The President’s mansion was a most magnificent construct. Situated at the near-exact centre of the Capitol and spanning over colossal grounds, it had quite a grandiose existence. Imposing white pillars stood tall at the entrance, guarding the curving pathway that led to the picturesque mansion behind. White walls, coupled with the freshly cut grass provided to the citizens of the Capitol a view unlike any other. 

In a city filled with concrete, the President's was the only manor that was decorated with a swarm of green. Inspired by old Terran chateaus, it was a fresh change of pace from the futuristic architecture that riddled every building of the Capitol. What was astonishing however, was that unlike old chateaus, the Presidential Palace did not appear welcoming in any way. Instead, it was very much the opposite. Daunting in its very essence, the mansion had the ability to unnerve anyone viewing it for longer than a few moments. At first glance it appeared pleasant. But the longer one stared the more overwhelming it would seem. Owing to the sheer grandeur, it stood quite apart from the city around it. The message it delivered was simple. The President’s residence was unapproachable.

It was why the drop in temperature that Seneca Crane registered was completely justified.

Because no one ever ‘visited’ President Snow. It was different for the numerous councilmen that would constantly stop by the mansion for meetings and strategy conferences. They  _ reported _ to the President. It was common knowledge that President Coriolanus Snow was an introvert. He preferred the company of the various plants that he tended to personally in his garden above anyone else. Therefore, when the head gamemaker was invited over to the palace by the president himself, Seneca had readily obliged but not without an uneasy feeling in the back of his mind.

With every step that he took on the stoned pathway that led to the entrance of the palace, the atmosphere became colder, even eerier. As he reached the luxurious lobby, he expected the room to be filled with the countless servants that looked after the enormous palace. Instead, he found no one nearby. Unsure of what to do, he remained rooted to a corner of the lobby for the longest times, his eyes travelling along the rich marble walls around him. After a while however, realizing that he could unknowingly be making the president wait for him right at that moment, he decided to look for the man himself. Selecting a direction in random, he started walking down the long corridor.

Being such an integral part of the Hunger Games for the past four years, Seneca had been to the mansion before. Every year, the victory tour, meant to celebrate the achievement of the winning tribute, ended with a grand celebration in the presidential palace. However, at those times, the entire place was decorated beyond compare. Now, as he walked through the simple yet luxurious pathways, he realized that he couldn’t recognize a thing. He kept walking for quite some time, ensuring to not deflect from a straight path so as not to get lost, until he stumbled upon a room at the end.

Unlike all the other rooms that he had passed by, this one was a creak open. Instinctively, he peeked inside. Behind the sleek, steel doors, lay a room so plain, it astonished Seneca. Unlike the extravagant lobby and the plush corridors, this room was cold and uninviting. It was barren, in that it contained nothing but an elegant table at the centre, while a beautiful crystal chandelier hung above it. He found it difficult to take his eyes off of the fixture, as in contrast to the dull, grey walls and the total lack of furniture, it was the only piece of extravagance that existed in the room. He was perplexed by its beauty, mesmerized by it, when

“Seneca. How nice of you to accept my invitation” President Snow spoke calmly while a startled Seneca turned back to face him. Words failed the head gamemaker as he felt like he had been caught doing something wrong. A few seconds later, Snow spoke again, “I was just about to head out to the garden. Please join me.” With that, Snow left without waiting for a response. Seneca followed wordlessly.

The moment they stepped outside, Seneca was met with a whiff of aromas. The perfumed air nearly overwhelmed his nose as he saw the magnificent garden around him. White roses speckled in between walls of fresh, green leaves, it competed in elegance with the entire mansion itself.

“A boy from 2 and a girl from 12, working together.”

Snow pulled Seneca’s attention from the captivating garden, as he recited the words that the male tribute from 2 had spoken a day ago. Seneca noticed how the president was busy tending to a section of the garden and didn’t even bother to turn and look at him as he asked “Did I hear that right?”

Seneca sensed the rhetorical nature of the question. Instead of a simple ‘yes’, he used the opportunity to try and earn praise about his excellent approach to this year’s Games. “Everyone’s talking about it” he replied, proudly. “Ever since the surprising alliance the interest in people has increased ten fold. Rating points are higher than ever before” he concluded with a smile. 

The smile dropped a little however, as he noticed an inscrutable look on Snow’s face.

An uneasy silence remained for a few long seconds, before Snow spoke up again. “Why do you think the revolution failed all those years ago?”

In the few times that Seneca had interacted with the president, he had quickly learned that he was not a man of many words. He was known to be a recluse. It was why all his speeches were written out for him. Because he hated talking without reason. Left to him, all ceremonies relating to the Hunger Games would be over within a few hours. He was laconic to the truest sense. Hence, as he considered the question that he had just been asked, Seneca understood that it was in no way an initiation of a pointless discussion. There was a deeper, much more important reasoning at play.

“I’m not sure” he replied and waited.

To this, instead of replying right away, Snow slowly walked over to the far side of the garden. Seneca observed as he picked up a few sticks from a neatly stacked pile and brought it over to him. Of the bunch in his hand, he gave him one stick and said, “Break the stick.”

As bizarre as the request seemed, Seneca obliged and very easily snapped the feeble stick in half. As soon as he had done so, Snow then handed him the remaining sticks and said, “Now break all of them, together.” Still confused as to the point of the activity, but knowing better than to question the president, he held the bunch in both hands and tried to split them at once. He tried hard, using what strength he had to break the sticks but quickly realized that they wouldn’t budge. After a few long seconds of grunting and wheezing, Seneca finally gave up.

“They won’t break” he breathed out.

“Exactly” Snow calmly replied.

Confused, Seneca looked at Snow with knitted brows as Snow continued. 

“Stronger together. It was the conclusion of an old-Terran fable. One that I’ve realized is just as relevant even today. It was how former leaders had managed to rule over civilization for years. ‘Divide and Conquer’ is the only philosophy that our ancestors have left us as a way of the proper functioning of society.” He paused, as realization shone on Seneca’s face. “The reason,” he continued, “ that the rebellion failed all those years ago was because the Districts failed to work together. Divided, they were hopeless. They were weak. Exactly like those individual sticks. But if you were to bring these weak Districts together, what do you think would happen?”

Finally realizing the cause for their meeting, Seneca replied, slowly, “They will have hope.”

“Exactly. And hope is a very dangerous thing” he said as he resumed plucking weeds from his garden. “It is the only thing stronger than fear. As long as there is hope, there is always a chance of defiance. And defiance,” he said, turning to face Seneca, “cannot be tolerated.”

“What would you like me to do?” Seneca asked meekly, careful no to offend the man before him in any possible way.

To this, Snow smiled a cold smile, sending chills down the head gamemaker’s spine and replied, “You’re the head gamemaker. And an excellent one too. You don’t need me to tell you what to do. All I ask is that you tread cautiously. You have created a spark. You need to ensure that you can contain the fire. Do you understand?”

His cryptic words, coupled with the cold expressions on Snow’s face, were enough to convey to Seneca the severity of the situation.

Without wasting a single second, he replied, “Yes sir.”

* * *

Slamming the door of his private quarters shut, Seneca realized just how frustrated he was. He hated when someone else told him how to do his job. To make matters worse, it was the president. Which meant that he had no choice but to agree.

The president had no idea how the Games worked. He didn’t understand how difficult it was to keep inventing and reinventing in order to keep things fresh. How desperately his team had to work every year to bring to life new concepts that their audience could enjoy and find entertaining. It was why he didn’t understand just how vital something unexpected such as the alliance between the boy from 2 and the girl from 12 was to them and the Games. It was bold; something no one had seen coming. And it had worked wonders for the rating points. 

The people of the Capitol had found their team-up exciting. It had piqued everyone’s interest when the boy from 2 had saved the girl from 12 from the tracker-jackers, or when the girl had returned the favour and agreed to their unlikely alliance. Even before the alliance had formed, the audience reception had been amazing. All in all, both the tributes had proven to be assets to the 74th Annual Hunger Games, while their alliance was a miraculous boon.

And now, President Snow wanted him to end it.

He thought back to the moment when it had all begun. When a girl from an outskirt District had scored an eleven in her individual assessment. Quite a few of his associates had been against the decision. But Seneca had felt as though the girl had earned it. After all, it wasn’t exactly common for a tribute to throw a knife perfectly at a target placed in a bustling room, several metres away from her.

Granted, the target was a tomato a few inches from his head, but that didn’t matter. Not when considering the girl’s courage. Her audacity to be bold. She was very clearly unique. Unlike any of her predecessors before her. After her individual assessment, Seneca had incredulously thought that District 12 might finally have a shot at winning after so long.

Then there was the boy from 2; the District that had managed to have the most number of victors over the years. He was a total contrast to the girl, in that everyone already expected him to be amazing. And quite true to expectations, he too had performed remarkably well up until now. But he hadn’t quite caught Seneca’s eye because he didn’t exactly bring anything new to the scene. That was until he had decided to save the girl from 12 from deadly tracker-jackers. He had very tactfully distracted his fellow Career and saved two tributes. There was no indication to the exact reason behind it, which was precisely what added a certain amount of mystery to the situation which in turn had intrigued Seneca. Needless to say, rating-wise, the alliance was one of the best things that had happened in the arena.

Unfortunately, not everyone thought so. Seneca sighed, frustratedly.

Rubbing his forehead, he realized that the decision had already been made. There was little he could do to change the situation. Instead, he decided to focus on the facts and narrow it down to what his immediate plan of action was to be. On one hand, he had a Career. Tactical, courageous and overall an ideal tribute. He was mysterious, lethal and could add a lot to the Games in the final showdown. To add to it, the most vital factor working in his favour, was that his victory was entirely expected. It wasn’t unconventional in any way.

On the other hand, there was the female tribute from District 12. She too was clever. Not an ideal tribute, but she was spontaneous. There was no telling what she would do next. To add to it she was quickly becoming a Capitol favourite. While she hadn’t really provided any evidence regarding her own ability to kill a tribute, Seneca was somehow sure that due to her unpredictability, she could most certainly enhance the grand finale.

It was a tough call.

A knock on the door broke his train of thoughts. 

“Sir, we need a decision” his assistant said, referring to the situation in the Game-room.

Sighing deeply, Seneca got up from his chair and faced the man at the door. With a heavy heart, he finally said,

“Kill the girl.”

* * *

It had been twelve hours (seemed like it) since Kara had witnessed the unfortunate circumstances under which Mon El had needed to kill two tributes. During that time Kara had learnt quite a few things about her ally.

Firstly, she had found that Mon El was an excellent hunter. Using the bow and arrow came naturally to him. He had very clearly spent years perfecting the skill and it showed. She had already expected him to have good aim like her, but to add to it he was consistent. In under half an hour he had brought back four squirrels, that had all been shot dead centre in the eye. To add to it, he was surprisingly well in cooking the meat, and had thereby produced quite a fine meal. It was the first time in the arena that Kara and Rue had eaten adequately.

Later that night Mon El had even offered to keep watch since in his words he ‘wasn’t sleepy.’ But Kara could tell that the deaths that he had caused were still weighing on him and so had decided to stay awake with him. After the first half hour of dead silence, Kara had suggested that they talk about homes.  _ Their own _ homes. Mon El had quickly agreed.

It was a feeling Kara couldn’t quite describe. In all her time on Terra, she had always spoken about Krypton as a distant memory; one that could only be told, not relived. Her parents had always been her only audience when it came to stories of her home world. While she surely appreciated their company more than anything, it always bothered her how her parents could never truly understand what she meant when she described a particular flower that was native only to Krypton. Or when she would speak of the numerous planets in neighbouring galaxies that she had visited as a child. The best they could do was lend a sympathetic ear. They could listen, but not relate.

But now, here she was sitting across from a man who knew exactly what she was talking about when she described a two-headed creature from the planet Barbex. Who could identify the many dialects of the languages of the planet Glossa. Who could smile at the memories of the bismuth mountains of the planet Seednak. Because he was there. He could genuinely reminisce with her about the numerous things of and around Krypton because he too had experienced them as a child. He was of a world just like hers. A world that used to revolve around the same sun as Krypton. A world that had suffered a similar fate.

Kara had smiled upon seeing the spark that talking about home brought to Mon El’s eyes. The moment however was short lived, as the silence and darkness around them was quickly replaced by the bright light of the ‘List of Vanquished’ for that night.

That had brought them both back to their depressing reality. One where he had killed two innocent beings and she had frozen up completely when given the opportunity to take down one of the attackers.

Instantly their smiles had died down and a heavy silence had descended upon them yet again. Deep in thought, Kara had, for the longest time thought about the entire ordeal. She had recognized the genetically modified beasts that had attacked them, for she had seen them in a lab in District 12 years ago. However, what she couldn’t quite understand was how they had managed to appear out of nowhere. She thought about how they had attacked them. She even remembered the peculiar moment when she had shot an arrow to the mutt that was approaching her and Rue and incredulously the arrow had flown right through it. She couldn’t quite explain how that had happened.

But more than anything, Kara had thought about that one moment when she had spotted Garret turning towards her. In that moment, she had instantly nocked an arrow and pointed it towards him. She was about to shoot when suddenly the thought of the repercussions of her actions had stopped her. She had considered in that very moment exactly what it would mean to kill the tribute, the attacker in front of her.

She had thought about his family. About how they may have been watching that moment that was being televised on every holo in Panem. How they may have held their breaths and hoped that their son would somehow pull through. At that, thoughts of her own parents had invaded her mind. She thought about her Earth-mother Alura. How she had always taught her to be kind and generous. How her own generosity had been the reason that she was alive on this planet in the first place.

All these thoughts had occurred within a mere second. Owing to them, instead of killing her attacker, she had suddenly felt the need to save him. That had been her final thought as she had snapped back to reality only to see Garret pointing his own weapon at her. She had closed her eyes and prepared for the worst. Only, the worst never came. Because like before, Mon El had saved her.

In that moment she had, for the first time since she had entered the arena, questioned her own capability. She had asked herself whether she could truly fulfill her mission and save Rue. If they were in a similar situation where Rue was in Kara’s place and Kara in Mon El’s, would she have released the arrow?

The question had bugged her all throughout the night. After what seemed like hours, she had decided to distract herself from her predicament and focus instead on what was to be done next. With the deaths that had occurred, she was sure that the Careers would begin scouring the arena for more tributes to kill. The end was approaching, and they would surely be in a hurry to return home. However, as she tried to think of a way to deal with the situation, she realized that the only way she knew to deal with lethal Careers was to stay away from them. But Kara wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep Rue away and safe.

She turned to see Mon El who was staring ahead, deep in thought. She wanted to talk to him, discuss strategies but stopped herself as she noticed his eyes. They carried within them immense pain. Even in the dark, Kara could tell just how much he was hurting. Although his posture was stoic, but his eyes betrayed his otherwise impassive form. He was hurting. Realizing that bringing up the prospect of more deaths when he had still not recovered from the events that had occurred only hours ago, Kara had decided not to bring up the strategy talk until the next morning.

The plan had been delayed yet again when Kara had seen Rue in the morning. She had been a mess. Instead of her usual optimistic smile, she had greeted Kara with a scared look. Besides Kara, Mon El had noticed the same. They had both looked at each other and instantly decided that everything else could wait. They first needed to be there for Rue. After all, the girl had been through hell last night, as a boy from her own District had attempted to kill her. It was a blow even her unlimited reserve of joy couldn’t have handled.

So Mon El had stepped in with the one thing that he was sure would cheer her up. Talking about other worlds.

It had taken a while, but Rue had finally given in. Listening attentively to the numerous facts that Mon El told her about the various planets that he knew about, including his and Kara’s home worlds, Rue had quickly been mesmerized. It had effectively made her forget about her dismal life on Terra and inturn, had even lighten the atmosphere around the three of them. In another world, another time, Kara was sure that Rue would’ve been a scientist. Her endless curiosity about distant worlds reminded her of herself when she was a child back on Krypton. Here however, born in District 11 of Panem, Rue was obligated for the rest of her life to spend her mind in Agriculture. For this, as she sat observing Rue and Mon El talking on endlessly about space and planets, Kara was actually glad that Mon El had decided to reveal all of his knowledge to her. It made her realize that she too wanted to reveal her own identity to the little girl.

“So what about your solar system?” Rue asked. “Did Daxam have neighbouring planets too? Were there people that lived on those planets? What were they like?”

Kara observed as Mon El looked over to her and smiled. Partly, because he was delighted by Rue’s impatience to gain knowledge. And partly because of the question that she had asked. Kara raised an eye-brow.

“Well, Daxam had just one neighbouring planet. It was called Krypton. And yes, life existed there as well.” He answered before his lips curled into a short smile. “The people that lived there were just awful” he said mockingly, looking over to Kara in his side vision. “They considered themselves high and mighty and enlightened, you know? Typical snobs. Textbook elitists.”

Kara was not amused. “Well I’m sure they had their reasons” she suddenly spoke up. “Maybe they considered Daxamites to be nothing more than horrible brutes.”

A second passed, before Mon El began laughing, while another second later, Kara joined him. Rue was clueless.

“What’s an elitist?” Rue asked as their sudden fit of laughter died down a little.

“Uh Kara, would you like to answer that?” he said with raised eyebrows. 

“No, you’re doing just fine on your own” she replied, trying to appear offended at the accusation, but the look on Mon El’s face told her that she was failing, miserably. 

Because the truth was that no matter the enmity that had once existed between their home worlds, Kara and Mon El knew that it no longer mattered. Because both Krypton and Daxam had suffered a tragic fate. Both races had suffered near extinction. So now, thinking back, the war that had existed between both planets seemed pointless. Especially when only one Kryptonian and one Daxamite had survived.

Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, Mon El told Rue, “No, but all jokes apart, Krypton and Daxam were actually more alike than different.” Looking at Kara he said, “It makes me wonder what it would’ve been like if we had simply worked with one other instead of against. Maybe we could’ve saved both our planets.”

Both of them took a moment to consider a universe where Krypton and Daxam worked out a solution together and were saved. Both of them knew it was nothing more than wishful thinking. That made them stop.

This time however, when Kara’s thoughts returned to reality, it didn’t feel bleak. Instead, she felt hopeful. Maybe what their people hadn’t been able to do before, Kara and Mon El could do now. They could work together and save an innocent life. They could save Rue. It was her final thought when all of a sudden, a bright flash of light lit the entire forest while a large growl sounded through the atmosphere.

Without even needing to turn, Kara could tell what it was.

There was no warning this time. Only a few feet behind her, the genetically modified beast, similar to the one that had attacked them the previous night came rushing towards Kara. It sprung Mon El to action as he instantly shot the mutation (mutt they had taken to call it) and it fell dead. Immediately, a second mutt came rushing towards them from behind Mon El. He turned and shot it too. Then a third appeared.

It was all much too sudden. The commotion had not given Rue enough time to climb a tree and so she had to run inside the tent instead. Mon El kept shooting the mutts with arrows while Kara tried to run towards the tent and retrieve some weapons. That was when a mutt appeared out of thin air and landed directly on top of Mon El.

Kara was baffled by its sudden appearance and fell back while Mon El was distracted too. Just then, a mutt pounced on Kara from behind and tackled her to the ground. Kara was strong, even without her powers, for all the time that she had spent in the forest on the outskirts of District 12 had taught her well how to tackle large animals. She used up her humane strength and tried her level best to overwhelm the large beast. 

In her desperation to keep up with the fight, she didn’t notice as the mutt that had suddenly landed on Mon El, had disappeared just as suddenly. Mon El knitted his brows but before he could say anything to her, his arm was kicked, painfully by a large claw, causing him to drop his bow and the single arrow that he was holding.

From inside the tent, a terrified Rue observed as Kara and Mon El struggled to strike down the beasts that they were each dealing with at that moment. In all the commotion, neither of them noticed as another mutt appeared just a few metres away from the tent and growled hungrily at Rue. She didn’t hear it at first, but as the growling became louder, Rue was suddenly startled by a mutt that was approaching her fast. She had a choice to make. She could either stay inside the tent and hope that the deadly creature didn’t get to her, or she could act and run faster than ever before. While the former was certainly tempting, Rue knew that the latter was the right choice. 

With that, she took in three deep breaths and prepared herself. Then, without any warning whatsoever, she dashed out of the flapped cover of the tent. She was about to run in full speed in the opposite direction when all of a sudden her feet got caught in a vine on the ground, causing her to trip. As soon as she fell she felt fear in full swing. It gave her the adrenaline she needed to quickly stand and face the enormous beast behind her. In a feeble attempt, she tried to pull her foot away away, but the entangled vines that had caught her legs and wouldn’t budge. Rue screamed in alarm. The beast was approaching.

Behind it, Kara suddenly realized that Rue was in danger. She was struggling with the mutt that had pinned her down. But as soon as she heard the poor girl’s voice, something changed. Right from that moment, she acted purely on instinct as she raised her arms and grabbed two of the mutt’s enormous legs. Then, using all her strength, she pulled the claws apart and pushed the mutt away, making use of her feet. The mutt fell back, but before it could even hit the ground, Kara got up and swiftly jumped on the foul creature, trapping it in a headlock. They both struggled. But the thought of Rue gave Kara the extra bit of strength that she needed as she forcefully twisted the mutt by the neck, killing it on the spot.

It was not over though. As soon as the mutt was dead, panting, she turned on the spot and saw the bow and arrow that Mon El had dropped, lying a few feet away from her. She rushed to it and in one swift motion nocked the arrow and aimed it at the mutt approaching Rue. She could see Rue’s terrified face as she was standing with her feet stuck, helpless, while the unforgiving mutt was with its back to Kara. Just as the mutt was about to pounce on the little girl, Kara shot the arrow.

After that, there was little she could do but watch and hope that the arrow found its proper target. She watched as time slowed down as the arrow travelled across thin air, away from her and reached the centre of the mutt’s back. 

It then went through the beast.

Kara incredulously realized that the time the arrow had taken to reach from her to the mutt was actually shorter in comparison to the time it had taken to reach its back, penetrate through the mutt’s body like it was nothing but air and fly over to the other side. In that very moment, all she wanted to do was run towards Rue and push her aside. But she knew she was too late. Because just as she took one step ahead, she heard more than saw the sharp edged arrow pierce Rue’s chest.

Kara stilled in shock. The mutt that was about to pounce on Rue mere seconds ago vanished from existence, revealing a small, fragile Rue standing on the other side with an arrow stuck to her chest. Kara forgot how to breathe.

Besides her, Mon El finally managed to overpower the mutt that he was fighting and ended their duel by pulling out an arrow from the quiver that was hung on his back, and striking down the enormous animal. He huffed in exhaustion and grunted as he pushed the enormous dead mutt off of him and slowly got up to his feet. One look at Kara, who was staring in a direction and seemed lost, quickly told him that something was wrong. He turned just in time to see Rue falling down to her knees.

“Rue?” he called out, willing himself not to believe what he was seeing.

His voice snapped Kara into action as she rushed over to the girl and held her just as she was about to fall back to the ground. In her mind, Kara vaguely registered that even in her invincible skin, and even though they were under the scorching afternoon sun,

She could feel the chills of the cold air around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to consider:  
1\. The story about the sticks is a kid's story. At first I wasn't going to include the whole thing but then I thought that it fit my interpretation of President Snow perfectly, so I kept it.  
2\. Of the many things that fascinated me in the Hunger Games universe, I have always been taken aback by the way that the entertainment sector works in the Capitol. I mean firstly, it's so sick they're doing this to innocent lives in the District. To add to it, the entire ordeal is treated like a freaking TV show!  
3\. Kara is better in hand-to-hand combat than Mon El. Main reason is that she has spent longer time tackling down animals in the woods. Mon El is more experienced in combat in general.  
4\. No comments about the final scene and abrupt ending (just... no comments)
> 
> Until Next Time!  
P.S.: Maybe keep some tissues ready, just in case....


	21. Aftermath - II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’ll be with you in your dreams."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The death of Rue affects different people in different ways.  
Also, Emotions ahead...
> 
> (Sorry...!)

“It's gonna be okay."

Kara kept repeating the phrase, more to herself than to anyone else, as she held Rue in her trembling arms. She noticed herself shaking, but ignored it. She tried desperately to process the chaos that had taken over her, but found it extremely difficult to do so. Shock had stilled her, but her racing heart kept telling her to act. To do something and make sense of the situation at hand. To make things right. But as she tried to even begin to comprehend everything, all she could register was a mix of blurry thoughts and emotions. 

A part of her understood exactly what was happening. It already knew the outcome of it all, right from when Kara’s arrow had found its target. It had already realized the cruel end-result. The realization caused a lump of emotions to rise up in Kara’s chest, making it difficult to breathe. But she ignored it. She willed herself to forget about this logical part of her that had already given up, and focussed instead on what she had to do.

She had to make things right.

“It’s gonna be alright, okay? I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. You’re gonna be fine” she said, words spilling out of her in a panicked hurry. She kept uttering assurances to Rue while her eyes hurriedly travelled around her, searching for something, _anything_ that could help her. All the while she steered clear of looking into Rue’s eyes or at her delicate form, for she knew that the moment she would catch even a glimpse of the poor girl in distress, she would fall apart. She couldn’t do that. She had to stay strong. 

She had to make this right.

But the longer she looked, the more she was painfully made aware of the distinct lack of a solution. She felt anger rising through her, while panic took over her mind. She kept reminding herself that there had to be something that could fix this; something that could pull her out of this mess and save Rue. Then why couldn’t she find it? She was a Kryptonian who had spent sixteen years in the Science District of Panem. Surely she could think of a way out, no matter the circumstances. Then why couldn’t she do it now?

A voice in her head argued that the reason she couldn’t find a solution was because one simply didn’t exist, but she ignored it.

“Mon El, do something!" She suddenly called out, her voice laced with desperation. “Tell me what to do!" Mon El was a Career. Kara reasoned, that owing to all his training, he must know how to heal nearly fatal wounds. He could help her. He had saved her and Rue before, hadn’t he? He could do it again. (Couldn’t he?)

But when she noticed him from the corner of her eyes, she realized that rather than working towards finding a solution right away, he remained completely still. He was rooted to his spot and didn’t answer her urgent pleas. Instead, he remained quiet, intensifying the already deafening silence around her. The voice in her head took the silence as an opportunity and spoke again. ‘There's nothing to do' it said in a tone filled with accusation. ‘She only has a few minutes left.

No!

Kara shunned the voice away defiantly and forced herself to focus. She had to solve this. She needed to make things right. Saving Rue was her mission; her purpose. She couldn’t give up so easily. She couldn’t let her die. 

Especially not like this. 

She closed her eyes. Concentrating hard for a few seconds, she suddenly realized, “The medicine! Mon El, the Capitol medicine that healed you. It can heal her!" Kara shouted frantically. The medicine had worked miraculously for the seemingly incurable wounds from the venomous tracker-jacker wasps and had healed him in just a few hours. It could work for Rue too. Kara did realize the discrepancies in her plan. The little things, such as the fact that Mon El’s wounds weren’t anywhere near his heart, that made the two cases so vastly different. Not to mention the major difference between Mon El’s capability to survive and that of Rue. But she still continued to hope for the best. ( _ False hope _ , but she would realize it much later.)

When Mon El still didn’t respond, this time she finally looked up. But glancing at him turned out to be the worst mistake she could have made in that moment. Because looking at him was a wake-up call. One that she was trying so hard to avoid. He was visibly struggling to maintain a stoic form, but his eyes gave him away. They displayed a mix of emotions, including pain and sorrow. Kara noticed how he had barely held back the tears. But worst of all, his eyes contained a peculiar look that affected Kara in the worst possible way. Incredulously, she recognized a look of resign; as though he had given up already. It made Kara realize just how dire the situation was. It scared her to the core and pulled her back to reality, making her realize that all this time, she was simply refusing to acknowledge the harsh truth. 

Just then, a strained intake of breath caught Kara’s attention, causing her to look down. That was when she noticed the eerie arrow-shaft that was mercilessly jutting from Rue’s chest. In a split second, she forgot how to breathe, as the chaos in her mind only worsened. For a long couple of seconds, she stared at arrow, as though willing it to disappear, hoping against hope that it was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. But it remained in place.That was when she noticed the blood seeping through Rue’s shirt.

Just like that, her resolve shattered.

She looked into Rue’s eyes and took note of the strain on her face. The little girl looked anxious; afraid of what the next moment had in store for her. Her breaths were ragged and showcased very clearly the pain that she was in. Instinctively, Kara tuned in to her weak albeit clear heartbeat. Before she could stop it, a teardrop spilled from Kara’s eyes and rolled down her face. 

Kara wanted to scream. She wanted this nightmare to end; to wake up from it and find peace in the embrace of her Earth mother. But she couldn’t do any of that. Because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t change the harsh reality that she needed to face. She couldn’t undo what had happened. She couldn’t take back the arrow that had hit Rue.

She couldn’t take back the arrow that  _ she had shot. _

A sudden wave of guilt washed over her. All the emotions that she had tried so hard to keep at bay, came rushing in, overwhelming her entirely. She felt as though she were drowning. For the first time since she had been on Terra, her body was numb. Even though she hadn’t been attacked by kryptonite, her heightened senses seemed as though they weren’t working. Her vision was blurry with tears, while her enhanced hearing registered nothing but Rue’s heartbeat.

Rue.

Out of all the turmoil that raged on in her mind, her concern for Rue stood out, as Kara wiped her tears away and focussed her still blurry vision on the frail little girl in her arms. Breathing slowly in order to steady herself, Kara caressed Rue’s hair, causing the girl to look up at Kara.

Kara wanted to give her a reassuring smile; tell her in a steady voice that everything would be fine, and that she had nothing to worry about. But one look at Rue’s pained eyes, and Kara’s resolve shattered yet again. She tried to speak but her throat was suddenly dry. False reassurances were stuck in her mouth, for she couldn’t utter a single one. Instead, when Kara spoke, she did so in a trembling voice.

“I’m so sorry” she said, no longer able to control the tears. She wanted to explain herself to Rue. To tell her that it was all a huge mistake. She wanted to ask for her forgiveness for doing this to her; for hurting her. But in that moment, she couldn’t manage any of it. She tried her level best to hold back her sobs to ensure that her vision didn’t blur any further. Her intentions however were thwarted as she saw Rue hurriedly shaking her head no. It made Kara realize that even after she had shot her, Rue didn’t blame her for her current state. 

She didn’t think it was Kara’s fault.

Her forgiveness however, did nothing to ease Kara’s guilt. Instead, the guilt grew tenfold. It was enough to overwhelm Kara. But, before it could destroy her entirely, she was saved by the look in Rue’s eyes. The big brown eyes that had almost always been filled with either bubbling optimism or vivacious curiosity, now contained neither. Instead they held fear. Fear in its most basic form.

Fear of death.

At that exact moment, Kara found a tiny part of her purpose again, and it saved her from collapsing from remorse. Rue had saved her, she realized. Just like she had back on Kara’s third day in the arena. Because of her, Kara had had a cause to survive. Keeping her alive had gotten her through everything. But now, as even that was being snatched away from her, Kara realized that she needed, now more than ever, to be there for Rue. She couldn’t stand the despair in her eyes.

Her resolve returned and with renewed determination, Kara gently held Rue close to her, careful enough, not to shift her position much and cause any more pain due to the arrow lodged in her chest. She gave her a reassuring look, managing with great difficulty to smile at the girl comfortingly. She steadied her voice before she spoke the only words that came to mind in a situation as somber as this one.

This time her voice was steadier than before. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “Be the brave girl that you always have been.” She held her delicate hand as she continued, “The journey is long. It might get dark. But you’ll be asleep for most of it.” Taking in a deep breath, she said, “And I promise you’ll be okay. Because you’ll be among the stars.” She paused, the stability of her voice decreasing with every word. “I can’t be sure of where you land. But I know that when you wake up, you will accomplish great things. And no matter what, you will never be alone. Because I’ll be with you in your dreams.”

Kara barely managed the last sentence as tears filled her eyes while her voice broke down. She tried to understand why it was so hard not to cry in that very moment. She had recited the words that her mother had said to her on her last day on Krypton, right before the planet had exploded. These words had been etched into her memory for as long as she could remember. While she couldn’t bring to mind her birth mother’s face, she had replayed her clear voice in her head multiple times on Terra. But she had never remembered the crying. She remembered that her mother’s voice was stead, reassuring. Then why was Kara having such a hard time holding back her tears?

That was when she realized the simple, unfair reasoning behind it. It was because back then, when her mother had sent her away in that pod, she had known that Kara would be okay. But in Kara’s case, the exact opposite was true. Because Kara wasn’t sending Rue away to some distant world to keep her safe. She wasn’t ensuring that Rue would live. Instead, she was bidding her farewell. Kara’s mother knew that she herself wasn’t going to survive, but it was okay as long as the girl that she cared for so much could have a chance at life. Kara couldn’t say the same.

In both cases, Kara was the one to survive. In both cases, it hurt just as much.

Her words had the required effect on Rue, as she became less afraid and gave Kara a weak smile. Looking at her with a sincerity enough to melt the Kryptonian's heart, she slowly uttered,

“...Thank you."

Kara bitterly took note of the dip in intensity of Rue's heartbeat. A few seconds later, her grip on Kara’s hand loosened, before it fell to the ground and a heavy silence engulfed the surroundings.

The sound of the canon that followed was among the loudest Kara had ever heard.

With her eyes still open, staring at an undefined space in the sky above, Rue's lifeless form lay in Kara's arms. Nothing about her seemed even slightly different and yet, Kara realized how in a single second, everything was different. She noticed the subtle changes around her. How the air was no longer chilly. How the panic in her mind had subsided. How the tears that she was struggling so hard to hold back had disappeared now. How her enhanced senses were slowly returning. It was an eerie form of normalcy that Kara had never known.

The trembling was gone now. It was replaced with sudden stillness. The hand that was clutching Rue’s, now had a firm grip on air. Her breathing was slow. Kara could sense everything around her, but could feel nothing. Still holding her gently, Kara realized that she couldn’t look away from Rue’s face. She stared at the ghost of a smile that played around her mouth. Coupled with her eyes that were wide open, she looked strange.

Besides Kara, Mon El, who had at some point during the entire ordeal, knelt next to Kara, also had his eyes trained on Rue. Kara realized that he too must’ve noticed what she had, because right at that moment, he slowly reached over and gently closed Rue’s eye-lids with his hand. Her eyes were shut now. Kara realized that it looked so much better this way. The little girl looked as though she were sleeping. As though she was dreaming of the various worlds that she had been so fascinated about. As though the last couple of minutes had never occurred.

Except for the arrow lodged in her chest.

Gently, Kara laid down Rue’s inanimate form, as though she were being careful not to wake her from her peaceful slumber. Once she was on the ground, Kara slowly got up. Rather than shaky, uncertain steps, Kara walked steadily, determinedly towards a bush that contained brightly coloured wild flowers. She plucked some of them and walked over to where the girl from 11 lay. She observed the worried looks that Mon El gave her, but ignored them. In her mind, she had one simple task.

The arrow looked out of place. So she had to cover it up.

Swiftly, she held part of the shaft with one hand and easily snapped of the rest of it, so now, only a small piece was lodged in Rue’s chest. Using the wild flowers, she covered it up, ensuring to conceal the blood stains on her jacket as well. 

When she was done, she observed her work satisfactorily, none of it showing on her face. Now, Rue looked like she was asleep. She looked like she was at peace. In that moment, Kara remembered something. Slowly but decidedly, she looked up in the sky and raised the middle three fingers of her right hand in order to pay tribute. Besides her, Mon El too slowly mirrored her. She hoped that Rue’s family could see her. She hoped that all of District 11 could see her.

A distant part of her that could still comprehend emotions, hoped that all of Panem could understand how sorry she was for what she had done.

* * *

‘A salute was just what they needed,’ Seneca thought, sarcastically.

When the head gamemaker had decided to kill the female tribute from District 11, he had reasoned that doing so would bring a swift end to the alliance between the tributes from 2 and 12. After all, the little girl was half the reason why they were in an alliance to begin with. She was the glue that kept them together. Surely ending her life would break the alliance as well.

Or so he had thought.

In hindsight, he knew killing the girl from 12 would have been a cleaner, much more efficient task. But the pull of brilliant ratings was far too much to avoid. He had considered (hoped) that a fight between 2 and 12 in the finale would be a far too favourable outcome to let go. 

What he hadn’t considered was the strong bond that had already formed between the tributes in consideration. 11’s death was supposed to be a quick affair. One that wasn’t memorable in any way. Making either the boy from 2 or the girl from 12 kill the girl from 11 was, in Seneca’s mind, a stroke of genius. He had hoped that it would be the Career, but was just as satisfied with the other outcome. However, he had misjudged the spill of emotions that would be showcased. He was even surprised by how sad the boy from 2 had gotten.

But now, the entire thing had received more importance than was necessary. For quite a long time, all of Panem had witnessed the mournful farewell for the girl from 11. Seneca had considered not broadcasting the event, but couldn’t exactly help it, for there was nothing else going on in the arena at that moment.

Based on the numerous analysis reports that he had received following the so called ‘farewell’, the entire Capitol was in tears. The visual of 11 covered in flowers was apparently too much to bare for some citizens of the Capitol and had made them emotional beyond anything. But that wasn’t what was on the head gamemaker’s mind. He knew that the people of the Capitol were easily excitable, and so, knew that their momentary, slightly negative reaction didn’t amount to much. What was troubling Seneca, was how the Districts had reacted to the visual.

Rubbing his forehead in frustration as he sat in his chair, in the Games headquarters. He observed the mini holo on his desk that was displaying footage from District 11. Apparently, the emotional send-off of the girl from their District, along with the teary salute at the end, had caused the people from 11 to riot. They had collectively taken on the peacekeepers stationed at the District square and had set fire to some of the District granaries. From what he saw on the holo, the commotion was immense. The damage caused was considerable. More than most of the riots that had taken place in previous years.

_ Defiance. _

Seneca sighed frustratedly. He could almost hear President Snow’s voice in his head. If he had been unhappy before, the head gamemaker was sure that he would be quite upset. He hoped that things hadn’t gone out of hand already. He hoped he could fix everything before the President called him at his mansion again, only this time, to take away his job as head gamemaker.

He switched off the holo as a peacekeeper shot a rioter.

* * *

The death canon in the afternoon was surprising, but not unexpected.

However, upon learning that none of the Careers had been responsible for it, it had quickly alarmed everyone. Right from that moment, each Career, barring the male tribute from 2, had been looking forward to seeing who had died. It was why Juli Freeman, the female tribute from 4, and Trevor Bolt, the male tribute from 1, were sitting outside the Cornucopia, expectantly looking above it.

Both of them preferred fighting above anything else. It was therefore quite obvious that owing to the uneventful last couple of days, along with the prolonged hours that they needed to spend on Cornucopia duty, both of them were extremely bored.

In Julia’s opinion, it was all because of the forsaken District 2 tributes. Ever since the beginning, they had taken charge over the entire Career group on their own. They had all but declared themselves leaders, without actually conferring with the rest of the Career pack. The main reason that they had been able to do so, was because they were extremely skilled, and each Career had recognized that right from the start. They could dictate their power openly, and had the capability to back it.

Even after the male from 2 had separated from the group, Sam still held enough authority to order the rest of the Careers around. After Mon El had tricked Julia by somehow setting up a fake fire on the other side of the forest, and had taken off on his own, the trust among the Career pack had reduced considerably. Owing to this, Sam had decided that no one would be alone. That meant guarding the Cornucopia in a group of two and patrolling the forests in three’s. This was why it had gone so long without a single death. Since only one patrolling group of three was available, the group had to patrol one quadrant at a time. It was highly inefficient.

The strategy was enough to doubt Sam a little. But it was still not enough to overthrow the female tribute.

‘Not alone at least,’ Julia thought, turning to the male tribute sitting besides her.

“This makes no sense,” she began, gaining Trevor’s attention. “I mean who’s gonna try and raid the Cornucopia at this point? I mean we should be out there hunting people and getting this over with.”

Trevor agreed, but didn’t add anything to the argument.

“Sam’s just wasting us” Julia continued, closely observing the expressions on his face. She could tell he was conflicted. On one hand, he could safely play the remaining days until the final showdown under Sam’s leadership. But on the other, he could, along with the rest of the group, stage a coup.

Julia smiled inwardly as she observed Trevor select the latter.

He turned to look at her and smiled. “Tell me about it! I haven’t killed someone in days.”

The plan was in motion.

“And I’m sure this is just the beginning” Julia continued. “Wait till space-boy returns. He’ll be welcomed back like a freaking hero. No trust issues or anything. It won’t matter that the guy basically betrayed us. As long as Sam’s in-charge, none of us are going to have a fair shot at winning.”

Trevor seemed far too keen to agree. As though he had held his tongue for far too long. “The moment I met her, I knew she was going to be a control-freak. She’s been pushing us around ever since we came to the arena.”

This time, Julia agreed. “So, hypothetically speaking, if we were to get rid of Sam, the whole dynamic shifts into our hands?” she asked, a sly look on her face.

The boy from 1 seemed hesitant. After a few seconds of considering her question, he asked, “What about space-boy?”

“He won’t be a problem once Sam’s out. The only reason he’ll even think of returning is because he knows he’s safe as long as she’s around.”

The argument convinced him, as his lips curved into a sly smile. “Look like we have a deal” he said just as the List of Vanquished appeared on to of the Cornucopia.

* * *

They hadn’t spoken all day.

Mon El observed Kara with worried eyes as she sat by a tree in front of him, blank expressions adorning her face. She had remained like this right since the very moment that she had said goodbye to Rue. Mon El could pin-point the exact moment when the shift had occurred. When she had gone from crying to emotionless. It was the exact moment he had heard Rue’s heartbeat stop.

It had been an extremely difficult day. For him, Mon El hadn’t recovered completely from the shock of how quickly everything had ended. How, within just a few minutes, everything had gone horribly wrong. After the incident (Mon El had realized that he simply couldn’t refer to what had happened in any other way) the two of them had spent the rest of the day in complete silence. It gave Mon El to realize a few things about exactly what was going on.

Firstly, he realized that the mutts weren’t all real. The gamemakers had included real beasts, along with three dimensional holograms in their ambush in order to confuse the tributes. It explained why there were flashes of light before the attack. The holograms were taking up too much power, causing a sudden surge of electricity. Rue had figured out the surges. Had he figured out the situation a little sooner, maybe she could’ve been alive.

He wiped the tears that were forming in his eyes, despite his many attempts to stop the crying.

It all seemed far too convenient. How the beasts that had attacked Kara and Mon El were all real, while only the one meant to pounce on Rue was a fake. It almost seemed as though the gamemakers wanted Rue to die. After all the things that he had seen and endured on Terra, the idea didn’t seem far fetched.

The realization angered him, but he didn’t let it show. Because the entire ordeal was just another reminder that all tributes inside the arena were nothing more than pawns in the games that the Capitol loved to play. They considered innocent people from the Districts to be nothing more than pieces to manipulate for entertainment. It was the Capitol’s way of scaring them. It was their way of reminding them that they owned their lives.

It was why he was extremely grateful to Kara for what she did for Rue after the incident. Bedecking her with flowers, Kara had done much more than just make Rue appear peaceful. She had, in a brilliant way, told all of Panem that Rue was not just another piece in the Games. She was special; unique. She deserved to live in a better world. One that could do her mind justice.

Dark logic made Mon El realize that in a way it was actually better that Rue didn’t have to endure life on Terra anymore.

He hoped that she was at peace. But he couldn’t say the same about the girl in front of her. He was concerned for Kara. He knew exactly what it was like to lose someone dear to him on Terra. When his Earth-father had died in front of his eyes, he had went through the same thing. At first, he had isolated himself from everything around him. In that moment, it was much easier to be a closed-off, invincible non-human on Earth. But in time, the pain had caught up to him, and it had been his worst day on Terra. That day, he had let go entirely, unleashing his true powers to the people of Earth.

That was why he knew how important it was to feel in crucial moments such as these. This was why he hadn’t tried as hard to hold back his tears when he had first registered the arrow lodged in Rue’s chest. It was important to feel. Powerful aliens like him couldn’t afford to have an explosive reaction without the risk of either hurting people around him or revealing himself as an off-worldly being.

That was why he was worried for Kara. Because if she was anything like him, she needed to have her reaction.

His thoughts were interrupted by a whistling sound coming from above them. He looked up to see a parachute gently descending from the sky. It carried a sponsors box that landed with a dull thud on the ground between him and Kara. They looked at each other, but neither moved. Finally, Kara decided to check it out.

The gift, as it turned out was for the female tribute from 12, because the moment she opened the box, it hissed open and revealed the item that it contained.

It was a fresh loaf of bread. Nothing too extravagant, but it looked delicious. It was different from plain bread in the sense that it was full of nuts and berries. The night breeze carried the waft all the way to the other side where Mon El was sitting. He wouldn’t have recognized it at first, but he quickly recalled something that the girl from 11 had told him a day ago.

Judging from the texture of the bread and its unique colour, Mon El realized that it was bread from District 11. It further made him realize that the gift was from the people of 11. Sponsored gifts were quite expensive, especially rare items like food. Clearly the people of 11 had contributed to the gift together. It was then that he understood.

It was meant as a thank you for what Kara did for Rue.

Looking up at her, Mon El could tell that Kara had realized the same thing, as she read the note that came with the gift. He appreciated the gesture. He felt as though it could really help Kara heal from everything that she had experienced today. It could help her feel better.

On look at her, and he could tell he was wrong.

With the note clutched in one hand while the box in the other, Kara was visibly shaking. Mon El observed as her breathing became shallow and restricted. Her face went from emotionless to pained.

“Kara?” he asked with concern. But it seemed that she didn’t notice, as she was looking down, transfixed at the bread. He got up from his place and walked over to her. Kneeling besides her, he called her out again. This time, she did reply, but in the faintest of whispers. “What is it?” he asked, unable to decipher her mumbling.

“She’s dead,” she replied, a little more audible now. “She’s dead and I-” A sharp intake of breath interrupted her words. Exhaling slowly, she continued.

“I killed her.”

Before Mon El could disagree, Kara collapsed into tears. “I killed her. It was me,” she repeated, closing her eyes in pain. She shook violently now, as the tears that she had banished the entire day came rushing down her eyes. Mon El held her, but couldn’t get her to listen.

“She died with an arrow to the chest. I put it there and she died,” she said in between sobs. “I killed her,” she repeated the statement over and over again, until Mon El had to grab both her shoulders and make her listen to him.

“Kara look at me,” he said in an increased volume, finally gaining her attention. “You did not kill her” he stressed on every word. “It was not your fault. You were trying to protect her. You didn’t mean to-”

“I couldn’t save her!” she all but yelled. “I couldn’t protect her. I failed her.”

He replied in a steady voice, “ _ We _ failed her.”

Noticing how she had fallen silent, Mon El said again, “It wasn’t your fault. You were trying to save her from the mutts.”

As soon as she heard the mention of those horrendous creatures, Kara slowly turned her head to where the dead mutt from that afternoon lay. The gamemakers had taken Rue away minutes after she had died. But they hadn’t bothered with the creatures that they had unleashed on them. They remained right where they died. A reminder of the incident.

A reminder of her failure.

Suddenly, the guilt that was flowing through her transformed into anger. Pure, unadulterated rage filled her mind as she realized what the gamemakers had done. What they had made her do. Rue was so young. She never deserved any of this. She deserved to live. But the Capitol took that away from her. 

They took her away from Kara.

Anger took over entirely, and before Kara could help it, she felt letting go. Looking directly at the cruel Capitol mutts, she screamed and unleashed her laser-vision, hoping to burn the dead creature that had caused her so much pain. But before the laser that shot from her eyes could reach the mutt, it was stopped by an invisible shield. As soon as it came in contact with the shield, electricity cackled all around it. Kara screamed as loud as she could, like she had wanted to do ever since the reaping. She replayed the events of the entire day in her mind and it suddenly made her feel weak. Finally closing her eyes, she disrupted the deadly laser beam. Tears were still flowing from her closed eyes. But before she could open them again, a strong pair of arms pulled her in.

Mon El held her close, while both of them were in tears. She cried profusely in his arms while he kept repeating the one thing that he was hoping above all in that moment.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was... something!  
This is by far one of the most emotional chapters that I've attempted. Do let me know how you like it.  
Points to consider:  
1\. The riots in 11 is such a powerful scene. There's anger, chaos and just raw emotions! It really worked wonders for the entire movie.  
2\. I changed up Kara's birth mother's final words to fit the scene a little more. It hurt so much when I was writing that!  
3\. There's more to come from the Career pack, so stay tuned for that!  
4\. The bread scene was in the book and I really liked it a lot. It really portrayed the struggle that Katniss was going through, and thought that it could work well to break Kara's walls and force her to have her reaction. But now that she has finally gone through it, the worst is over. Plus she's a survivor. She'll be okay. Both aliens have gone through hell before. They'll find their way out this time as well.  
Again, this was a difficult chapter to write and to conclude I would just like to apologize to Kara, yet again. 
> 
> Until Next Time!


	22. Anomaly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This will be the only announcement."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one said the arena would be easy... So this... Yeah...!

The girl from District 12.

She was all anyone was talking about, since the events that had transpired in the arena. She had caught the eye of every citizen of Panem with her unique approach to the Games. At first, she had seemed like quite the fighter; strong, powerful. For one thing, she had volunteered. That moment in the reaping had already caused quite a few heads in the Capitol to turn in her direction. Even though she was from a District that had the least number of victors in the past seventy four years, she still had a certain level of competency that seemed unparalleled. She seemed like a winner. 

Her motif in the Chariot ceremony had further attracted the attention of the audience, while her interview with Caesar had left everyone in awe. She was the only non-Career, and perhaps the only outline tribute to receive an eleven in her individual assessment. Everything had gone swimmingly for her, in the sense that it was one of the few times that a tribute from an outline District had received actual recognition for having not only a strong persona, but also a quite high probability of winning. 

Inside the arena, however, things had changed a little, as Kara Zorel of District 12 went from being a fearless girl on fire, to a mellower version of herself. At the end of her first day in the arena, the odds had actually tipped against her, as she had seemed scared and inept. The viewers of the Capitol, who had been vouching for her, quickly became nervous, that everything that she had done till now was sheer beginner’s luck and that she was now transforming into the inefficient tribute belonging to an outline District that she had always been.

But things changed, yet again, when the frail little girl from 11 came into the picture.

It was as though the helpless girl had kick-started Kara’s mind and had made her jump straight to action. Within hours of meeting, Rue, Kara had displayed her skilled work in doing everything that she could to ensure her safety. The fire was back. She seemed like she had found her purpose again. The arrival of the Career from 2 and their alliance had nothing but helped Kara in the best possible way. It had worked wonders for the ratings. The audience had loved how their unlikely group of three had slowly become a team.

Rue’s death was a shock. But what Kara did after that, was an even bigger one. With something as seemingly insignificant as giving Rue a send-off by bedecking her with flowers, Kara had caused the entire nation to cry. It was among the few times when the men, women and children of the Capitol had actually been sad because of the death of a tribute. While the city had become overly emotional, more than usual, the Districts too were hit with a wave despair. They had reacted to the send-off differently; mourned the little girl from 11 differently. Repressed anger from so long had found an opening and had caused riots in 11 and an overall bitter atmosphere in most non-Career Districts.

Kara had done that.

Unfortunately for the head-gamemaker, this turn of events was extremely unfavourable. Seneca Crane was wracking his brain, trying to come up with a way to resolve the mess of a situation that he had found himself in. It had been two days since the death of the girl from 11 and the whole thing was still a big issue, not only in the Capitol, but also the Districts. As he viewed the latest footage from 11, he realized that the riot had begun to die down just a little, but the people were still angry. As a result, to avoid further problems, the entire District had been placed under curfew. It was causing a serious decline in productivity. Defiance on this level could not be tolerated for long.

Which was why Seneca had limited time to figure out a proper solution. Something that could calm the raging crowd, but also keep the Game ratings high. He now knew well enough that deciding not to kill the girl from 12 that day was a mistake. He had already received quite some criticism from his peers when he had awarded the girl high scores for her boorish behaviour in her individual assessment, and so knew that if he didn’t act quickly now, it would only result in something worse. He would have to face the beratings from everyone involved, not just his associates. 

It was why he had spent the past two days locked up in his office, trying to decide what his next course of action should be. While it hadn’t really affected the smooth functioning of work in the Games headquarters, for the head-gamemaker was known for his secluded working style, it was still taking a toll on Seneca in the sense that his mood had worsened, a little each day, to the point that now, even the slightest of sound that was unrelated to what he was working on, irritated him. 

The main reason was that the stakes were high with this particular situation. There was no telling just how unpredictable things could get from that point on. What angered him even further that most of it wasn’t even his fault. He was just doing his job, wasn’t he? He was plotting the events in the arena in a way that would get them higher ratings than ever before, and he had succeeded in it too. How could he have predicted the riots and the colossal damage that would follow? How could he have known that what was supposed to be a simple death of a tribute from 11, would be turned into a sentimental happening that made everyone far more emotional than necessary? It was simply unfair. With no solution in sight and at the end of two tiring, underslept days, he was downright annoyed with anything and everything.

It was why he didn’t notice his hand accidentally hitting his coffee mug and pushing it off the table, where it fell to the ground and broke with a loud crash. He cursed as he leaned down to pick up the broken ceramic pieces, while a small amount of hopelessness settled in his mind.

* * *

Marcus was an intern in the Hunger Games HQ. It had only been a month since he had started working here but even in the short time, he absolutely loved it. Right from the arena set designing to the special effect, he was in awe of each and every thing that went on in the headquarters. The only thing that he was not a fan of was interacting with his superiors.

Especially when the superior in consideration was the head-gamemaker.

At the moment, Marcus’s job was simple. He was in-charge of analyzing all the discarded footage that came from the numerous cameras that covered every inch of the arena, and re-checking whether it was truly useless, before getting rid of it. It didn’t require much from the boy, except to sit back and watch hours of everything that happened in the arena. Nowhere in his job description was it mentioned that he would actually have to report his findings to Seneca Crane himself.

Standing outside the door to the head-gamemaker’s office, he considered and reconsidered everything. He had found something in the footage. But was it really that big of a deal? He debated that the recordings that he was given to analyze were already discarded in the first place. They had gone through numerous people working in the HQ before they had reached him. Surely if all those people didn’t find the events interesting, then maybe they weren’t a big deal. But then what was the point of his job? He was there for a reason, wasn’t he. What if this was that reason?

Marcus nervously stood with his hand raised, about to knock on the door in front of him. He had initially thought of talking to his superior, but someone had told him that he had to report directly to Seneca Crane himself. Now, as he stood outside the doors that had been closed for the past two days, he realized that all of it could indeed be a prank. Maybe his seniors were messing with him. But it was also possible that they were telling the truth and if so, he was making the head-gamemaker wait.

Just then, he heard a crash, followed by a string of curses coming from inside the room. It startled him, doing nothing to help his nervousness. He waited a few seconds before timidly tapping on the door with his closed fist.

“What?!” he heard a sharp response from inside, almost making him want to run away. But ignoring that instinct, he opened the sleek glass door and stepped through. Inside, he found the head-gamemaker, busy picking up a few broken pieces of what must’ve been a mug. For quite some time, he didn’t even bother to look up at Marcus, which led to a few seconds of stretched silence as the boy awkwardly stood at the entrance.

Then abruptly, Seneca lifted his head and looked at him, impatience and annoyance clear on his face. That snapped Marcus into talking.

“I’m sorry sir. I know that you’re really busy, but some of the people in my department told me that I have to report to you. My name is Marcus Perry. I’m an intern in the arena footage department.” He rambled on about his work details and would’ve talked further, but Seneca interrupted him.

With an even more annoyed look, he stared at Marcus and said with controlled anger, “Why are you here?” It made the intern realize that he was talking pointlessly and that the head-gamemaker’s patience was running thin, which in turn made him even more nervous. 

“I’m sorry sir, yes, of course. Uh- I’m not- I’m not here to waste time. I just, uh- wanted to tell you something that I found in the- in the discarded footage section.” he sputtered. Removing a small databox from his pocket, he showed it to him. “It’s something peculiar, strange. So, I thought-”

“So you thought that wasting my time was the right course of action?” Seneca said, irritatedly. 

“Yes,” Marcus replied before actually realizing what the man had said. With wide eyes, he quickly corrected himself, “I mean no, I mean uh- I’m wasn’t exactly sure about what I needed to do, since it’s actually the first time I’ve come across something like this. But I can see that it was not- not right to,uh- bother you. I am so sorry.” Keeping the databox on his table, he continued, “I’ll just leave this here and uh- I’ll go. I am so sorry for uh- for this. You should know that I’m a hard working guy and I would never intentionally waste your time or- or anyone’s time really.” He began rambling again, before Seneca called him by his name and ordered him to get out.

* * *

The trash.

That was where the databox was going, along with the remnants of his broken mug. The moment the intern had left his office, Seneca had half a mind to throw the thing away, owing to how annoyed he was at the moment. He grabbed the digital box and walked over to the corner of the room. His hand hovered over the trash can, before a thought struck his mind. Maybe he could use a break from everything. Maybe his mind needed to restart and the best way of doing so, was watching old, albeit useless, footage from the arena. He had worked far too much in the last forty-eight hours. He was long overdue for a break anyway.

In the very last second, he pulled his hand away and placed the databox back on his table. He sat on his chair with a heavy sigh and faced the box. Bored beyond reason but far too fatigued to look away, he pressed a button on the databox. Instantly, the device turned on, and an index page appeared in front of Seneca. It contained numerous time-stamps with the footage linked right next to it. With the click of a few buttons, Seneca randomly selected a time stamp and pressed play.

The next screen was a high angle shot of the boy from 2 and the girl from 12. ‘ _ Great’ _ Seneca thought sarcastically. ‘Just the people he wanted to see in that very moment.’ The video was from a couple of days ago. The dynamic duo was talking to the girl from 11, entertaining her with words. Seneca had zero interest about what they were discussing, and so kept the volume at near zero. He watched, for about a minute as nothing out of the ordinary happened. After another minute went by, Seneca made a mental note to fire the stupid intern, but just then, he saw something.

His first instinct was that it was just a defect in the video player. So, he rewinded the footage and looked again. Scrunching his eyebrows, he stared with intrigue, but nothing changed.

After viewing a few more videos, he quickly reached over to his desk phone and called his assistant.

“There’s an intern in video analysis. Marcus Perry. Send him in my office. Urgently.” he said, hurriedly before disconnecting the call and staring at the boy from 2 in the paused video in front of him.

* * *

“I truly am sorry for wasting your time sir” Marcus said, in a panicked tone, as soon as he stepped into the office. When the head-gamemaker’s assistant had fetched him from his desk, Marcus had been about seventy percent sure that it was to fire him. So all along the way, he had prepared an apology that he was hoping could get him out of this one mistake. He had expected Seneca to stare at him furiously and then bark at him for wasting his valuable, precious time. 

But now, as he stood at the entrance, he observed how Seneca hadn’t even heard what the boy had just said. He was seated, quietly looking at a video recording. A few seconds went by, before Marcus continued with his apology, but was interrupted by Seneca.

“Can you tell me about what’s happening here?” he asked, gesturing to the video screen.

Words failed Marcus for a long moment, as he tried to understand what was happening. Once he did, he quickly responded, “Uh- yes sir. Of course.” Seneca gestured him to sit across from him and turned the databox so that he too could see the footage that was playing. He hesitantly made his way to the seat that he was offered and looked.

“Now, right here,” Seneca said, pointing to the screen. “This is the time stamp that you’ve marked. What’s going on here?” he asked.

“Well, the guy from 2, he uh- he was standing here” he responded, pointing to a particular spot on the screen. “Everything was normal until this time mark, where he just disappeared for a fraction of a second.” He slowed down the video and paused at the exact moment that he was referring to. Sure enough, the Career from 2 had suddenly disappeared. “And then after this, he reappeared, “ Marcus said, resuming the video, where instantly, the Career from 2 was back on their screen. “But the problem is-”

“He’s standing a few feet away from where he was” Seneca finished, as Marcus nodded.

It was quite anomalous indeed. The footage showed, clearly, that a tribute had disappeared for less than half a second and had instantly reappeared in a completely different spot. It didn’t make sense. 

Knitting his brows, he stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the footage. “How’s that possible?” he said, thinking to himself.

“Well, at first I thought it was a glitch, but the things is, this is an aerial view pieced together from about fifty cameras pointed in the same direction. So, I checked the individual recordings, and every single one catches this.” Marcus responded.

“So, how can it be a glitch? Fifty cameras won’t glitch together at the same time, would they?” Seneca continued.

“Exactly.”

Seneca wasn’t sure why, but he needed to get to the bottom of this. Maybe his instinct told him that this was something far more important than it appeared, or maybe it was the fatigue talking. Either way, he needed to solve this riddle.

“How long will it take to find all such anomalies? Right from day one of the Games?” he asked.

“I’d say about two hours” Marcus said, as he thought about it.

“You have one,” Seneca ordered. “Stop all your work and report to me as soon as you’re done.”

“Yes sir.” Marcus replied.

But only when Seneca all but barked, “Go!” at him, did Marcus finally rush out the door.

* * *

The anomalies were numerous. Seneca couldn’t for quite some time, believe that his team had missed so many of them. Maybe they hadn’t, but had just regarded them useless and so had discarded the footage. Once or twice, the anomaly could still be a glitch. But Marcus had returned with a lot more than two instances of the oddity. It had caused the head-gamemaker to analyze all the recordings. He ended up spending hours trying to find a connection between all the videos. At the end of the second hour, he had finally thought of a reason.

Instantly, he had called a member of his team to try and prove his hypothesis.

After that, there was nothing to do but wait. Within the next hour, the person that he had contacted came to him with results. Their meeting however was cut short because of a knock on the door. 

“Sir, a Harrison Wells is here for you. He has an appointment.” It was George, Seneca’s assistant.

The head gamemaker paused for a moment before turning to the woman that he was meeting with. “Thank you Marcia, that will be all,” he said and she took it as an indication to get up and leave. Before turning to his assistant, he quickly gathered the papers that lay on his desk and shoved them inside a drawer. “Send him in, please.”

Harrison Wells walked through the doors with a friendly, but formal smile on his face. “Hello Seneca,” he greeted.

“Harrison, please, have a seat” Seneca replied, gesturing his assistant to close the door. “Care for a drink?” he asked as soon as Wells was seated, to which, the man declined politely. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Oh c’mon, one doesn’t need a reason to visit his friend from time to time, do they?” Wells answered, his tone showcasing the true meaning of his words brilliantly. The head gamemaker and the victor of the 50th Annual Hunger Games were in no way friends. Wells belonged to a participating District, which meant that technically, Seneca wasn’t even allowed to meet with him. And yet, on his very first year, the head gamemaker had been offered some help by the District 2 mentor in order to resolve a situation that had caused some problems in the Games that year. Since then, they had gone back and forth, helping each other out in situations that were difficult for one but easier for the other to resolve. Seneca had even ensured a tribute’s victory one year, while Wells had helped Seneca extend his term as head gamemaker. They did such small, seemingly insignificant favours for one another, completely off the books. But in reality, they hated each other’s guts.

“See, this is what I like about you Harrison,” Seneca smiled, artificially. “It’s always straight to business with you. So tell me, what can I do for you?”

Wells smirked, before continuing, “Actually, I’ve come to talk about something that I can do for you.” Observing the confused look on the head-gamemaker’s face, he continued. “It was quite an emotional funeral for the girl from 11, wasn’t it?”

The smile vanished from Seneca’s face as he was reminded of the problem. Owing to the anomalous footage, he had side-tracked from the actual issue at hand. The reminder was not appreciated.

“I understand you’re having quite some problems trying to deal with the aftermath,” Wells continued, noticing the clear change of expressions on Seneca’s face. “Especially in the Districts.”

“We’ve dealt with problems like this before” Seneca responded quickly. He could understand that Wells already knew about the riots in 11. H e therefore had to ensure that he didn’t seem any more helpless to him. “We’ll solve this too.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will, I have no doubt about it,” Wells continued. “I just came here to offer some unsolicited advice.” Seneca could have stopped him right there. Reject his offer and ask him to leave. But the truth was that the head-gamemaker was desperate at this point. He knew Wells was a smart man. He knew that he needed to hear his solution if he wanted to make his way out of this mess.

Taking the silence as cue, Wells carefully explained his idea. But right after only the third statement, Seneca huffed in annoyance.

“Are you kidding me right now?!” he asked, angrily. “I want the problem to go away, not add to it. They’re still in an alliance, even after everything. Your solution is ridiculous.”

“My solution,” Wells countered, calmly, “is based on what I know about my tribute. I know him a lot better than you. I know exactly how he thinks and what he plans to do next. The riots are quieter now, but if you do something similar to the stunt you pulled two days ago, then they will lash out again. Only this time, it’ll be a lot more difficult to control.” He paused a little to let his words weigh on Seneca, who had now fallen silent and was deep in thought. “The only way for you to get out of this mess that you’ve created,” Wells continued, “is if you take my advice.”

With that, he got up. Turning to leave, he said, “I won’t take much of your time, head-gamemaker.” He reached the door but before pulling the door handle, said one final thing.

“Give my regards to the president when you meet him next” he said, with an innocent smile before he left and closed the door behind him.

* * *

The decision had yet again been made for him. Only this time, Seneca wasn’t as frustrated as before.

The first reason, was that what Harrison had told him actually made sense. The solution that he proposed not only resolved the issue at hand, but also bought him time to take care of everything else. It was an efficient way of dealing with everything problematic, all at once. He wished he could be as confident about the boy from 2 as Wells was, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

The second, and the more important, reason, was that it allowed him to give time to the anomalies in the video footage. Just before Wells had arrived, Seneca had been in the middle of a meeting with the head of the medic department. He had given her the anomalous time stamps (without actually telling her that they were problematic in any way), and had asked her to give him tracker readings of two tributes for all those times.

Because the only factor that every recording had in common, was that each of them included the boy from 2 and the girl from 12. As he had thought about other ways to find out exactly what they had been up to in the anomalous time stamps, he had realized that he could use tracker information to find out all the information he needed.

Marcia, the lead medic of the Hunger Games, had printed out tracker reports for both the tributes under consideration. “There’s not much for the girl,” she had explained. “But there was something I found about the boy. On every time stamp that you gave me, his heart rate weakens, slightly. It goes on diminishing for a few minutes before slowly, everything returns to normal.” When Seneca had enquired further, she had continued, “It means that for each time stamp, he grows weaker for about twenty minutes and then just like that he becomes normal again.”

“As for the girl,” Marcia said, “there’s nothing unusual, except for maybe the very first time mark that you gave me. Her heart rate just sorta spiked for a few seconds before it returned back to normal. Like she was startled or scared. But nothing was happening during that time, so I’m not sure why she was scared. Maybe it’s a glitch. Either way, it’s not very unusual.”

A glitch in the video recordings, he could possibly understand. But a glitch in the medical reports at the very same time, was something far too much of a coincidence for Seneca to ignore.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” George asked, pulling the head-gamemaker from his thoughts. He had written down all sets of instructions that Seneca had given him and was now waiting for his next task.

“I need to go visit District 2” Seneca replied. “I wanna leave tonight, so I can be back as soon as possible.”

“I’ll set up the itinerary right away” he answered before taking it as his cue to leave. Before he exited, however, Seneca called out. 

“Oh and George, please arrange for a private train. I don’t want people knowing about this. I can’t have rumours spread that the head-gamemaker has abandoned his post in times of distress. So, make sure this stays only between us.”

“Sure, sir” he replied and left.

Seneca didn’t know exactly what was happening. The one thing he was sure about, however, was that he needed to get to the bottom of it. He needed to find out what it was about the boy from 2 that was causing all these anomalies. 

‘And what better place to start looking for answers than home?’ he thought.

* * *

The static of a microphone sounded in the arena.

_ ‘Attention tributes.’ _ Claudius Templesmith’s voice boomed across the arena.  _ ‘The regulations requiring only one victor have been… suspended. From now on, any two tributes may be crowned as victors. This will be the only announcement.’ _

The mic turned off.

* * *

Home. 

It was what had mostly been on Mon El’s mind in the last two days. Shortly after Kara’s outburst, either of them hadn’t been able to say much. They had both cried, and Mon El had held her, trying his level best to calm her by telling her that things would be okay. But the truth was that things weren’t okay. They were never going to be as okay as when Rue was around. Mon El wanted to stay optimistic, but had been unable to.

It was why he had found comfort in memories of home. Rue’s death had affected him in a harsh way, because it had reminded him of his Earth sister. Seeing the frail little girl with an arrow to her chest had unlocked a darker part of his imagination which was fueled by fear. He had tried hard, but failed to ignore the thought of ever having to see Maya’s face instead of Rue’s But before he slipped further down that path he had willed himself to reject the concept completely and thought instead how his family was safe back home.

His focus had then landed on Kara. For two days, she had kept quiet and refused to do anything but sit by a tree trunk, and wipe away the tears that occasionally adorned her eyes. She was lost; broken. Mon El knew exactly what that felt like. Even though she had had her reaction (Mon El had instinctively projected an AR dome half a second before she had attempted to burn the mutt with her laser vision) she was still hurt. 

So Mon El had taken over all of their responsibilities. Food was a priority. He knew that leaving Kara alone, at the moment wasn’t a great idea. So he relied mostly on traps and snares for food. As for shelter, Mon El had decided after the incident, that they were less likely to be attacked by the mutts again, if they kept moving. Before, they couldn’t do so because of Rue, and so they had to set up their tent in one place. But now that things were different, Kara and Mon El kept walking throughout the day, setting up their tent only for the night. 

Owing to their alien physiologies, neither Kara, nor Mon El were affected by the cold temperatures on Terra. Their jackets provided sufficiently enough heat to keep them warm throughout the night and so the tent was used mainly to store weapons, supplies and Rue's sleeping bag, which was folded neatly and kept in a corner. It was hidden from sight because every time that they caught a glimpse of it, it brought back tears.

Setting up a fire to cook the latest catch for dinner, Mon El sat down besides Kara. Neither of them spoke as the crackling of the fire was the only thing that filled up the silence around them. After a few minutes, he handed Kara the stick that contained dinner.

“I’m not hungry,” she said, mechanically. She hadn’t eaten anything in two days.

“Yeah? Well, I think you’re lying, considering how a human can’t go more than two days without food” Mon El retaliated, causing Kara to look up at him, suddenly. A few seconds passed by as she understood his cryptic message about  _ humans _ and finally accepted the food.

They ate in silence. When both of them were done, Mon El extinguished the fire and cleared away the remnants along with the ash. It was a trick that he had learned in the training centre, to ensure that there wasn’t any trace of the fire left behind. Once he was done, he quietly walked towards a tree and sat with his back to the trunk, besides Kara.

This was another thing that he disliked about their situation; how quiet everything had become ever since the incident. Kara hadn’t said anything other than responding curtly to anything that he said to her. He had understood that she needed time to process everything, and so hadn’t forced her into a conversation. He knew she was still not okay, but also knew that she needed to vent. Her outburst indicated that she was no longer in denial. Other than that he had no idea as to how she was coping.

“Thank you” she suddenly said, breaking Mon El’s train of thoughts. “Thank you for everything.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I know these past two days I’ve been kinda disconnected. I didn’t do much. You kept us going. With food, and shelter. Thank you for that.” she answered sincerely, her usual smile missing from her face.

Mon El considered his words before responding, “Yeah, well, I don’t mind the hunting, or the camping. It’s not much.” He eyed her, curiously, trying to infer what she wanted to say next. But instead of continuing, she picked up a random stone from the ground and flipped it over. He quickly understood and instantly projected an AR dome around them so they could continue talking without the pryin ears of the Capitol.

“You know I’ve never been very good at hunting.” Her response caught him off guard. “Ever since I was a kid, I knew that I was never going to be good,” she continued. “I always knew that the only way I was gonna be able to hunt was if I used my powers. May be because I could never really wrap my head around the concept of ‘killing to survive.’ I guess, I realized that if I used my powers to hurt those innocent creatures, then I’d have something to blame, you know. I could tell myself that the yellow sun was responsible for all of it.”

She paused and silently stared at a spot on the ground, as though preparing herself to what she wanted to say next. She took in a deep breath, before she said, “When I… shot the arrow to the mutt, I acted completely on instinct. Everything happened so fast that I didn’t even have time to use my powers. So… when I shot it… I didn’t need a yellow sun... That was all me.”

She fell quiet owing to the tears in her eyes, while Mon El took a moment to digest what she had said. She was blaming herself for the incident. Not her powers, just herself.

One look at Kara, and it broke him a little too. He understood exactly what she was feeling. The guilt, the pain. He was far too familiar with it, to know that he couldn’t let her suffer alone. Especially not when none of it was her fault.

Taking in a deep breath, he broke the silence. “Yeah, I know what you mean” he said looking at the ground. “I was sixteen when my Earth-father died in an industrial accident. Faulty wiring caused an electrical explosion in the section that he was working in. Killed him, on the spot.”

He paused again, before continuing, “When they found him, his body was completely burned. Everyone knew, instantly, what the cause of death was. They knew that electrocution killed him." He hesitated a little, trying to continue. “What they didn't realize was that when the explosion occurred, it was actually going to hit someone else. Someone who was with him, at the time."

Kara instantly understood whom he was referring to, from the look on his face. 

“Back then, I didn't know my powers fully.” he said. “Neither of us knew that if the blast of electricity were to hit me, I'd walk out from it, completely unharmed. So when the wave came, he pushed me away and took the whole blow."

He said, remembering the bitter memory, “I still got hit, but not with full intensity and fell to the side, unconscious. When I woke up... he was gone."

Kara stared at him with sympathetic eyes. She could see the pain resonating in his eyes as he relived the memory. She instantly wanted to comfort him, but could see that he was lost in thought. She gave him time and waited patiently for him to continue.

After some time, he said, “I have to think, why me. I mean, why was I the only one to survive Daxam, and then the explosion. Truth is, I survived Daxam because I was the prince, and I survived the explosion because of my powers. Both times, I was saved. At the expense of someone else.”

He fell silent, his eyes shining because of the tears that had accumulated in them. After a stretched minute, he concluded.

“If I die in the Games, then maybe I deserve to.”

This was enough to finally make Kara speak up. “You don’t deserve to die!” she exclaimed, breaking him from his reverie. “You deserve to survive. You never asked for what happened to Daxam. You didn’t know about the explosion before it occurred. Both times that you were spared, you can’t believe that it was for nothing. I think you were spared for a reason; to find your purpose on this planet. You’re not a bad guy because you survived. You saved me and R-” she fell silent as a sudden bout of emotions caused the name to get stuck in her throat. “You saved us, so many times” she continued. “Your father sacrificed his life, because he saw you were worth it.”

Kara noticed how Mon El was looking at her now. He had a peculiar look in his stormy grey eyes. They still held pain, but along with that, there was something else. Something that largely resembled appreciative pride. Confused, she asked him, “What?”

“I’m just… in awe of you,” he replied. “You’re something else, Kara Zorel.” Observing that it only confused her further, he continued, “You’ve been through so much in these last few days. And even after all that you’re here, giving me hope to survive. You were broken, miserable. But the moment you saw someone in front of you, in distress, you quickly forgot about yourself and focussed on trying to make that someone feel better. You have tears in your eyes, and you still managed to give me hope.”

Kara fell silent as his words weighed on her. 

“You did that without the yellow sun. That was all you” he said, sincerely.

Kara thought about what he said. Her train of thought however was interrupted as she observed a drop of blood below Mon El’s nose. She quickly looked at him with a worried look and proceeded to turn the stone back in its place.

Mon El sniffled a little as he wiped his bleeding nose. “I guess I went a little overboard” he said, bringing a swift end to the AR dome. 

“You should get some rest. I’ll take the watch tonight,” Kara said as she looked at him, wiping away her own tears and facing him with a small smile.

“You sure?” he asked. Only once she confirmed, he leaned back by the tree trunk and settled in. “Good night, paragon of hope” he smiled, before closing his eyes and falling asleep almost instantly.

Even though Kara was left alone with her thoughts, she didn’t feel dismal. Because for the first time in so long, Kara felt okay. It was all because of his words. He had made her realize her purpose and for the first time, she could see things clearly. All her time on Terra, she had never been sure of her own cause for survival. Rue’s death had only made it worse. But now, she had a different perspective to consider. She had initially thought that sacrificing her life to save others was her sole purpose. But now, she was left to think about a different factor involved in saving someone. Maybe her purpose was to give people hope. To encourage them to get up when they fall.

The Paragon of Hope.

For the first time since she the reaping, Kara was actually considering the possibility of returning home. She was warming up to the idea of surviving long enough to see her parents again. She looked at Mon El’s sleeping form. The announcement about two victors didn’t mean much at the time. But now, maybe they could both go home.

Just then, a rustling caught her attention as she quickly turned, looking with peeled eyes in the direction of the disturbance. She stood poised, ready to defend herself in a second’s notice. The rustling was getting louder, indicating that the attacker was getting close. She squinted in the dark, preparing for the worst. But as the attacker revealed himself, she was left in shock.

“James?” she said, looking at the boy from District 12, standing in front of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to consider:-  
1\. I wanted to bring to attention the betting that goes on in the Capitol. In the movie, it's shown like a stock market set-up and that was just... SICK!  
2\. Seneca is frustrated, Marcus is sorry!  
3\. Here's presenting Harrison INFLUENTIAL Wells! No wonder he's one of the best mentors out there.  
4\. Seneca KNOWS... not everything. But he knows that something is wrong. So... fingers crossed!  
5\. James!!! Timing dude!
> 
> This chapter was meant mainly as a set up to numerous important twists and turns that are to follow in the story. I hope you liked it, and be sure to let me know your thoughts in the comments below! (I love reading them!)  
Until Next Time!


	23. Far from Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In that moment, he suddenly remembered home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm a day late, but the 26th was a national holiday, so technically, it doesn't count!

Kara froze.

For a second, she couldn’t believe her own eyes. She was too spooked to move, or even blink as she looked at the man in front of her. The momentary relief that she had felt mere seconds ago had disappeared entirely now, while familiar chaos reclaimed its position in her mind. While her eyes stayed on him, her mind wandered off to a memory of an event that now seemed to have happened so long ago. She remembered the moment on the train when she had first sworn to protect the man that now stood in front of her now. She had promised herself that she would do whatever she could to ensure that James would win the 74th Annual Hunger Games. Helping him had been her calling; her purpose.

But she had lost that as soon as she had been launched into the arena. Right as the countdown-clock had struck zero, chaos had ensued and owing to the bloodbath around her, Kara had lost track of James. She had spent an entire day, helplessly looking for him, panicking whenever she had come across the horrid sound of the death-canon. It was only after another day had gone by, that she had finally come across the one person who, as it turned out, would give her back her purpose, temporarily. Rue had saved Kara from the hopelessness that would have taken over her entirely on losing her chance to save James. She had not only given Kara the luxury of a recovered resolve, but also, had provided her with comfort in a sense that had, for the very first time since the reaping, made her forget about her worries. It had lulled her into believing that things could be better; that she could fulfill her purpose and save Rue. The small amount of time that she had spent with the little girl from 11 and the Career from 2 had, against all odds, given Kara a sense of relief. For the first time in so long, she had felt as though things would be okay. 

That feeling was long gone now.

Now, as she looked at him, Kara realized how much James’s appearance had changed in the last few days. He no longer resembled the male tribute from 12 in the Chariot ceremony. His face was no longer that of the kind man who had told her about his brother in the Capitol training centre. Instead, he looked bitter. His expressions reminded Kara of how he had reacted when the District 12 train had reached the Capitol and he had seen the overly excited citizens cheering loudly for him. There was pain in his eyes that spoke volumes about the hardships that he had probably faced in the past few days. Kara tried to imagine all the things that he may have gone through in the arena. A wave of sorrow rushed through her mind as she realized how she had left him alone in this hell.

More than anything, she realized how she didn’t feel relieved to see him. When she had first lost him in the arena, she had thought that finally seeing him again would comfort her. After all, he was from 12; a part of home. But now, there was nothing. In that moment, she thought about Rue and the time that she had spent with her and Mon El. A part of her suddenly realized that the reason that seeing Jmaes didn’t feel great was because in the past few days, she was actually happy. She realized that the days that she had spent with Mon El and Rue, strangely felt more like home than anything else in the arena.

It was why she didn’t notice as his eyes moved and focussed on something behind her.

Before she knew it, James walked towards her in full speed. It was dark. Kara therefore didn’t notice as he pulled out a machete from his jacket pocket, and instead of stopping before her, passed her and rushed on. He moved with determination towards the man who was fast asleep by the tree trunk a few feet behind Kara. Just as Kara caught a sliver of the knife in James’s hand, she suddenly realized his intentions. But before she could stop him, James bent down and moved the knife threateningly close to Mon El’s neck. But before the blade could make contact, James’s arm was suddenly grabbed and twisted, causing him to drop the knife to the side. Mon El opened his eyes and swiftly kicked his attacker’s legs, causing James to fall. As James fell, Mon El maintained a steady grip on James’s arm and held it to his back. Using his other hand, he grabbed James’s shoulder and pushed him to the ground. 

“Woah! Hey! Easy!” Kara frantically rushed towards the duo. James continued to struggle, trying his best to reach the knife that Mon El had pushed aside, while the Career held him firmly to the ground. The remnants of sleep clouded Mon El’s eyes while confusion was evident on his face. At first, he didn’t hear Kara calling him out, and focussed solely on restricting his attacker’s movement. Only when she called out for what must’ve been the third time, and grabbed his shoulder, did he finally realize her words.

“Mon El, it’s okay! It’s James. It’s okay, we’re safe!” Kara said desperately. Her third attempt to calm things down seemed to work on Mon El, as he eased a little. James however, was still struggling wildly. As the pressure on his arm eased slightly, he pulled it away and attempted to push himself from the ground. Mon El, expecting James to attack him as soon as he was free, grabbed his shoulder and pushed him forward before he released him, creating some space between the two of them.

As soon as the male tribute from 12 was free, he quickly turned on the spot and charged towards Mon El, yet again. This time however, it was Kara who stopped him. She stood in between him and Mon El, and grabbed both his shoulders. 

“James, stop!” she howled. “You need to calm down!”

After a few stretched seconds, James finally stopped, breathing heavily and shooting daggers at the Career standing behind her. Anger shone on his face as he maintained eye-contact with Mon El and asked Kara in a low, strained voice, “What the hell’s he doing here?” 

Kara sighed as he eyes worriedly looked at her fellow tribute from 12. Mon El on the other hand, remained completely unfazed, looking right back at James, boldly.

A long moment passed, as the three tributes composed themselves, before Kara finally responded, knowing in the back of her mind how James was likely to react to her answer. 

“We’re in an alliance. Mon El’s an ally.”

As expected, James was shocked. He finally turned to look at Kara, as the expressions on his face transformed into agitated confusion. He looked at her unbelievingly, but as he noticed no change in her response, his anger returned with more intensity. “He’s a Career!” he said, incredulously. 

“A Career who saved my life. More than once.” Kara calmly replied, but increasing her volume a little. She needed to ensure that James didn’t lash out again. “Look James, you need to calm down. You don’t understand” she tried, but was interrupted by him again.

“How can you team up with this guy?!” James asked unbelievingly. “Kara, he’s the guy from 2. He’s a freaking Career. Did you not see what they did at the beginning? The bloodbath at the Cornucopia?! They’ve been hunting tributes down ever since the Games began!”

“James, I know what the Careers have been doing. But he’s not like that” she said sternly. Breathing deeply, she continued, “I know this is difficult. But you need to trust me on this.”

To this, he huffed, exasperatedly but remained quiet, eyeing Mon El distrustingly. Just as suddenly as it had been disrupted, silence returned and heavily descended on the three of them as they stood rooted to their spots, unsure of what to do next.

“You’re injured.” It was Kara who broke the silence first, as she noticed how James was having trouble standing and was faltering a little. She observed the bloody cloth that was tied firmly to his knee. 

“It was a mutation,” he said, bitterly, as though remembering a terrible experience. “They’ve got mutations and light mirages in this horrible place!” he exclaimed.

“We know” Kara replied. “We’ve encountered them.” Kara turned to Mon El and noticed how he had a somber expression on his face, much similar to her. Suddenly, James’s knee finally gave in as he almost fell, but steadied himself at the very last moment by leaning by a tree-trunk.

Kara quickly realized that the wound clearly needed tending to. “James,” she began. “I know it’s difficult to understand, but it’s dark. The Careers might be patrolling nearby. It means we need to stay on our toes. And frankly, that’s not gonna be easy with that wound,” she said pointing to the injury. “We have medicine that might help with that,” she continued. “But we can’t help you, if you won’t let us.” Grateful for the lack of a rebuttal on James’s end, Kara continued. “Let’s just wait till the morning, when we’ll all be a little better and ready for new threats.” She then turned to James. “But until then, please just trust me.”

A long moment of silence passed, where it clearly showed on James’s face that he was arguing with himself. However, at the end, he finally agreed. “Fine,” he said with gritted teeth. “But I don’t trust this guy.”

“You don’t say.” It was Mon El who broke the silence this time, with his sarcastic remark. Not unlike before, he didn’t seem worried about James’s threatening voice. If anything. He appeared annoyed.

Ensuring that things were relatively okay now, Kara headed to the tent to get the tracker-jacker medicine for James. James remained in his spot and stared at Mon El, who walked over to a tree and sat by it. Ignoring the dirty looks that he was receiving, he leaned his head back and looked up at the sky. The view reminded him of the sky back in District 2. In that moment, he suddenly remembered home. How he wished he were home instead of here in this hell. 

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, trying to prepare himself for the madness that was to follow because of the arrival of the male tribute from District 12. 

Annoyedly, he closed his eyes.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, he was met with the harsh sunlight falling directly on his face. Scrunching his eyes, he tried to block the excessive light with his hand. His eyes refused to open and did not appreciate the sudden ambush of light. He turned to the side and adjusted his neck before finding a more comfortable position to rest. He needed to sleep, for he hadn’t had much time for it in the last forty-eight hours. But now, in his mind, which was foggy because of sleep, he reminded himself that there was nothing more to do. Nothing else that would interrupt his precious sleep. 

Nothing except the knock on the door.

“Sir, we’ve reached 2.”

Seneca growled at the muffled voice of his assistant that brought him back to reality. A part of him simply wanted to ignore the voice; to throw it away like he would an alarm clock. But a larger part of him focussed on exactly what his assistant had just said.

‘They had reached  _ District 2 _ ’

Suddenly, the very eyes that he was having trouble prying open, shot open instantly. He quickly sat up and looked out from his cabin window, drowsiness that was usually accompanied with sleep, nowhere to be found. Outside, he saw the concrete buildings of the technology District of Panem. Seneca hadn’t been to the Districts very often. Therefore, every time, the drab layout outside the Capitol unnerved him just a little. The grey of the concrete seemed overpowering and overwhelming. The Capitol building had glass walls. There, the morning sunlight would reflect from the surface of walls and light up the entire city instantly. But here, in District 2, even though the sun was up, the houses and constructs of the District seemed bleak.

It was depressing.

But this time, Seneca wasn’t as bothered with the scenery outside. He didn’t care much for the layout of the District or even the many differences that there were between here and the Capitol. As he got out of bed and quickly got ready to head out for the day, he realized that there was only one thing that interested him at the moment. It was the reason that he had been able to take a break from all the madness that was currently occurring in the Games. Ironically, it was to do with someone who was partly the reason for the madness in the arena to begin with. It was why he was here in the first place.

Seneca knew that coming here was a risk. He understood well enough just what the implications of his actions would be. If people found out that the head-gamemaker had abandoned his post in the middle of a crisis, it would negatively affect every gamemaker in some way or the other. To add to it, he planned to visit the family of a participating tribute. He could already imagine all the allegations that would be directed towards him. All the rumours that would spread. But as he briskly walked past the train corridor, towards the exit, he realized that none of it mattered as much as his reason to do all this did.

In reality, Seneca wasn’t nearly as sure as he needed to be about the situation. There was always a possibility that the entire thing was just a coincidental glitch. It was possible that there was nothing out of the ordinary about the male tribute from 2 and that when Seneca would return to the Capitol later that night, he would be leaving District 2 empty-handed, achieving nothing more than a waste of his precious time. It was why the logical part of him, the cautious part, kept warning him about everything. It kept telling him that the only reason he was here was because he was too tired, having worked constantly on the actual problem in the arena at hand and needed a distraction from everything, which was exactly what the video glitches were proving to be. It reminded him that it still wasn’t too late to turn around, and focus on the actual problem he had, which was how the girl from 12 had affected the people of the Districts.

But then there was something else in the back of his mind that argued with his logical side. He wasn’t sure exactly how to describe this part of his brain that was both a little too mild to consider a thought, but too rigid to ignore its presence. It was much more intense, in the sense that it had somehow convinced him to travel across Panem and reach District 2 in the first place. It told him that something about the entire situation seemed off; a problem that was hiding in plain sight. He wasn’t sure about the specifics of this problem, but somehow felt that its nature was one that could not be ignored. He wasn’t sure whether it was intuition, but it told him that getting to the bottom of this seemingly trivial problem, could bring a swift end to all of his problems. 

The station was deserted. It had little reason to be crowded on any day except for the reaping and the victory visit. Seneca was glad, as he quickly stepped off the Capitol train, the only luxurious commodity in sight, and headed towards the exit. It was a particularly windy morning, justifying his overcoat and hat. He needed to remain as imperceptible as possible. The task was easy, considering how his assistant had chosen the train timings carefully, ensuring that it was when the streets wouldn’t be crowded. Factory shifts started early in the morning, so he knew that by now, most people would already be in their respective workshops, leaving the streets unoccupied. 

Even then, the head-gamemaker wore a half-balaclava face mask to conceal his identity from unwanted attention. He stood on the paved pathway and scanned the surrounding area for passers by. Besides him, George did the same. A few moments passed by, before he turned to Seneca and reported, “We’re good, sir.” When he received a curt nod in response, he gestured towards a cemented road between the District training centre and a neighbouring building, and continued, “It’s about a half-hour ride through there. The house is in the outskirts.” 

Just as he finished explaining, a dark coloured vehicle rolled wordlessly and stopped before the men from the Capitol. Its appearance screamed secrecy, with tinted windows that were rolled all the way up and a nearly noiseless engine. Seneca glanced around him one last time, before quickly opening the doors of the car and getting in, while his assistant entered from the other side. Once seated, he relaxed a little. His trip wasn’t over yet. But for now, he had managed to get by without anyone noticing.

Miles away, a girl who had been observing everything on a screen in her room, watched anxiously as the inconspicuous car turned in its intended direction. As soon as it was out of sight, she dropped her headphones on the table and rushed downstairs to report the events. She skidded to a halt in the kitchen, just in time for Rhea to turn and look at her questioningly. From the alarmed look on Maya’s face, she could tell something was wrong.

“Seneca Crane is here,” Maya blurted, worriedly. 

In that moment, Rhea suddenly felt the chill from the cold weather outside. Fear made its presence well known. But before it could take over, she willed herself to focus.

“His room. Go,” she instructed her daughter. Maya quickly understood and instantly rushed upstairs, as Rhea looked outside towards the front door, preparing herself for the madness that would follow.

* * *

Maya hadn’t been in Mon El’s room ever since the reaping. She had wanted to leave things exactly the way they were; to preserve the essence of his room. A part of her told her that it was because when he would return, he would like everything the same. Another part told her it was because she was afraid that he would never return. (She tried not to think about this part, as best as she could).

But now, none of it mattered. Now, she had more troubling matters to attend to. Therefore, with a deep breath, she closed her eyes and prepared herself. When she opened her eyes, her hands reached the door handle and twisted it, pushing the door open.

The room was a little untidy; as it always was. His bed was immaculate. Maya thought about how making his bed was the first thing he did every morning. When she had asked him about the reason, he had told her that it was an old habit that his guard back on Daxam had taught him.

“If you make your bed at the start of the day, it gives you a sense of accomplishment. That just ensures you’re in a good mood throughout the day,” he had explained with a smile on his face. 

Only one thing lay on the mattress now. Maya picked up the box that lay haphazardly next to the neatly folded blankets. It was empty now. It previously contained the necklace that Maya had given to Mon El as a parting gift right before he had left for the Games. She hadn’t had much time that day, and so had rushed to take the necklace from his room, forgetting the box on his bed. It was the only thing that seemed erroneous. She quickly put the box back in its proper place.

His table appeared empty, but Maya knew that wasn’t the case. She walked over to it and checked on both sides of the table. She continued to check on all sides until she found exactly what she was looking for; a tiny green button, hidden perfectly from view. She pressed it and instantly the deceptively clear table was suddenly filled with numerous items.

His table, in complete contrast to his bed, was cluttered with things. Mon El was always fascinated by the technology on Terra. He had attributed his interest to the technological advances back on Daxam, and had therefore considered himself quite fortunate to have landed in District 2. His table was his personal workspace. Not unlike every citizen of the District, Mon El too was required to work his shifts in the factory in his sector. But the devices that he designed there, although advertised as though they were meant for all of Panem, were in reality, focussed only on the enhancement of the Gaming arenas.

The gadgets on his desk however, were a different story. They were science projects of his own thinking. He called them a ‘creative outlet.’ Terra was quite an advanced race. However, humans had still not achieved technological prowess that could be considered as comparable to that of an advanced civilization such as Daxam. Mon El therefore spent most of his free time developing complex machinery, some of which were still considered nothing more than imaginative ideas on Terra. It was a way for him to feel closer to Daxam.

It was why Maya needed to get rid of those gadgets before Seneca Crane reached their place.

They were  _ alien _ in the truest form. Maya had to ensure that Mon El’s room was normal; as human as possible. She didn’t need to do much, considering how Mon El had kept his alien-ness to a minimum, leaving no evidence behind of his true identity. He had set a rule for himself, to ensure that his human origin was never in doubt. His desk however, was the one place that disobeyed that rule. Here, he used the knowledge that he had acquired on Daxam to build elements that truly showcased just how different he was from an average human. The ‘concealer’ that he had designed to hide things in plain sight, was an ideal example. It was a tiny device that he used to hide every one of his projects from view. It was why his desk had appeared empty at first. He had designed it when he was a mere teen on Terra. Maya remembered how he had made use of his powers to create it.

It was why this was the first thing that she needed to hide.

One-by-one, Maya gathered the numerous items in boxes and cleared the table. She came across countless projects, some unfinished, that Mon El had been working on until the day of the Reaping. With every bit that she cleared and hid away, Maya felt guilt settle in. It felt wrong to clear out his desk. In a way, it felt as though she was saying goodbye to him again. A part of her even felt that doing so might lead to him never returning.

But she shoved that part away and continued with her work. Because she had no choice.

She needed to save her brother.

Later, while descending the steps from the attic, where she had hidden away all the boxes, the sound of a car pulling over had caused her to look out the window. She breathed slowly, anxiously as she saw to men descend from the car and walk towards their front door.

It was show-time.

* * *

Rhea waited for the men to knock on the front door. As much as she hated all this, she knew that she needed to remain calm. After all, she had been preparing for days now.

It had begun when Rhea had first noticed something peculiar in the daily broadcast of the Games. It had been a few days ago, when the female tributes from 11 and 12 had formed an alliance with Mon El. It had happened quickly and had lasted for no more than a fraction of a second. But Rhea had caught the discrepancy in Mon El’s position. It was as though the cameras that were constantly recording everything happening in the arena had stopped recording and then resumed again making it appear like Mon El had shifted a few feet from his initial position without moving. Rhea knew in the back of her mind that it could very well be a glitch, but she couldn’t be sure. 

It was only  _ one _ possible explanation for the event. 

The other explanation, though unlikely, was much more alarming. It was one that, when Rhea had realized it, she had been unable to ignore its implications. It was just as possible as the glitch, but unlike it, affected the Roqford family, personally. Rhea was a strong woman. But saying goodbye to her son and watching him everyday, battling for his life in an arena, was among the most difficult things that she had ever endured. It was a direct blow to the promise she had made to herself when she had first accepted Mon El into her family.

To protect his identity from the Capitol and to  _ never _ let them hurt him because of it.

That was why she had begun preparing for a day such as this one, right after the erroneous footage had been broadcasted. Her concern for her children was beyond anything and everything. In her mind, she thought simply, that the gamemakers were fools if they thought that she was going to let them anywhere near her family.

An eerie knock on the door broke her from her reverie and she walked calmly towards the sound.

* * *

Seneca observed the expressions on the woman who had answered the door. She seemed surprised, startled even. But she was in no way afraid or anxious. He made a mental note of that.

“Can I help you?” she asked making Seneca realize that his face was covered by his balaclava. He quickly removed the mask and faced her, noticing the shock in her eyes. “Yes, hello, I’m Seneca Crane. I’m the head-gamemaker for the 74th Annual Hunger Games.”

“Yes, of course!” the woman exclaimed. “I know who you are Mr Crane. Please, come in,” she welcomed them in her house.

Once inside, Seneca quickly began scanning the house, looking around him, pretending to admire the interior. In reality however, he was looking for something, anything that could explain the anomalous footage.

“I’m sorry,” the woman spoke up, “but, is there something I can help you with?”

“Rhea Roqford, isn’t it?” he asked, to which, she simply nodded and shook his hand. “Mon El is doing so well in the arena. You must be so proud.” He noticed how she gave him a curt smile of acknowledgement but did not speak any further about it. “I mean, I’m not allowed to say anything, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he reached the finale with ease. That’s actually why we’re here. We wanted to uh- make a featurette about him. You know, study his origins, tell the world what makes him such a strong contender.”

Unbeknownst to him, the woman standing in front of him, and the girl listening to everything from the top of the staircase were secretly alarmed by his choice of the word ‘ _ origin. _ ’

“I wasn’t aware that the head-gamemaker needed to be a part of tribute publicity.” Rhea said in a confused tone.

“Uh- no, I’m uh- I’m usually not a part of these things, but I um- I was headed to 2 anyway so decided to tag along,” Seneca covered up, hastily. He knew he hadn’t fully convinced the woman in front of him, but before she could ask any more questions, he quickly continued, “So I’ll just be asking a few questions and my assistant here will be recording.” Before he could continue, he was interrupted by someone descending the stairs.

“Mom, I finished all my homework, I’m gonna head out,” the girl called out, but stopped abruptly as she saw two unfamiliar faces in the living room.

Seneca noticed how she stared at him, as he greeted her with a saccharine smile. “And this must be Maya. The darling sister.” When Maya did not respond, he continued, “I have heard so much about you and I would love to get your interview. But first, “ he said turning to Rhea, “I was thinking a tour of the house would be a good beginning to the featurette.” Without waiting for a response, he walked over to the stairs where Maya was standing, seeming almost unsettled by Seneca’s presence. Keeping the artificial smile on his face, he said, “We’ll start with his room.”

* * *

About twenty minutes later, a stoic Rhea, a relieved Maya and a disappointed Seneca exited Mon El’s room. The head-gamemaker was very clearly upset. He wasn’t sure exactly what he had expected to find, (maybe some illegal device that could be used to mess up the footage of the cameras in the arena, or something similarly unseemly that could give him an excuse to disqualify him from the Games), but needless to say, he had emerged from his room with nothing but a bad mood. As he walked back in the corridor that led to the staircase, he berated himself on following some stupid hypothesis. He had travelled to 2 and wasted valuable gamemaker time because of a stupid hunch.

He was in the middle of cursing himself, mentally, when behind him, Maya looked at Rhea and smiled. Without missing a beat, the woman responded with a short, almost imperceptible smile. Even though Maya knew that the threat wasn’t gone yet, she couldn’t help but feel relieved. She knew that Seneca hadn’t verified documentation yet, but she also knew that that area was completely foolproof, as her parents had taken care of every piece of documentation relating to Mon El’s identification on Terra. The difficult part was over now. Now, the head-gamemaker simply needed to walk back downstairs where he would be away from all the alien devices that were currently hiding in the attic. Just as he was about to make his way towards the staircase however, Maya suddenly noticed something. Instantly, she knew that something was wrong.

Seneca seemed to have noticed it too; a bright light coming from the ceiling. It caused him to look up. A small smile worked its way across his lips and before Rhea could intervene, he quietly reached for the latch above him that revealed an entrance to the attic.

Time skid to a halt. Maya froze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will update these notes later!
> 
> Until Next Time!


	24. Hair's Breadth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "One wanted to prove something to everyone, while the other wanted to save everyone she met."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens...!

He smiled malevolently.

It wasn’t the attic itself that intrigued Seneca. He was more fascinated by the sudden change of expressions on the faces of Mrs Roqford and her daughter. He didn’t miss the flash of panic that passed through the woman’s eyes. Even then, she remained quite stoic, displaying surprise as the only reaction as the head-gamemaker opened the latch to the doors that led to the attic. But the same could not be said about the girl, for she suddenly appeared as though she had seen a ghost. 

Satisfied with this reaction, he pulled down the retractable wooden stairs that led to what appeared to be an attic fully stocked by numerous boxes. Ignoring the many protests coming from Rhea, he started towards the attic with acute curiosity and an increased excitement. He had taken one step when all of a sudden,

“Oh my gosh!” a voice, coming from behind him, exclaimed loudly, causing Seneca to turn and face the source of the sound. He barely registered the new presence in the corridor, when all of a sudden, the unfamiliar man all but pounced on Seneca and locked him in a tight hug.

“What the-?!” Seneca snapped, trying to free himself from the stranger’s arms.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” he squealed, still confining an annoyed Seneca in a hug. When he didn’t let go for a few more seconds, Seneca finally, forcefully pried him away. Only then did he finally get a good look at the man who had caused the sudden ambush. He stared at him angrily, while the so-called ‘fan’ looked back with overt enthusiasm.

“Who the hell are you?!” Seneca asked, straightening up and regaining his posture. 

At this, the fan appeared somewhat embarrassed. “Oh I’m uh- I’m sorry about that. That’s- I’m just- I just can’t believe it’s really you! I mean I’m standing in front of the head-gamemaker. Oh man, that’s - wow!” he smiled widely. “I’m uh- “ he paused, as though trying to remember his own name, before continuing, “My name’s Winn Schott and I am such a huge fan of yours. Sir, I’ve been admiring your work right since your first term as head-gamemaker. I mean, your arena-design two years ago was epic. No one saw that coming! And they’ve just been improving since then.”

With that, he continued blabbering on about the many achievements of the head-gamemaker as Seneca looked at him incredulously. His anger transformed into disbelief and even more annoyance, to the point that now, he simply stared at his fan in utter confusion. After what must’ve been the most boring minute of Seneca’s life, he interrupted the man when he was busy listing several trivial details about the arena from the 72nd Hunger Games, and asked, “How did you get in here?”

The question, it seemed, was enough to break Winn’s train of though and bring him to reality, as he sheepishly said, “Oh, the front door, sir.” He then waited a beat and grinned at his own joke, one that Seneca did not appreciate in the slightest, and continued, “No, I’m just kidding. I’m a friend of Mon El’s. Ever since he volunteered to be in the Games, I’ve been helping around here. Is that- is that why you’re here? The interviews of the family and friends of the tributes? Oh, you should totally interview me sir, I have known Mon El since we were both kids.”

As Winn’s words reached Seneca’s ears, he suddenly remembered why he was here in the first place. He was quickly reminded of what he had been doing right before the fanatical surprise attack. The realization pushed the boredom away and filled his mind with anticipation instead, as he turned to face the attic.

Only, it was empty.

Seneca blinked once. Then twice. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t change the visual in front of him. The space under the roof of the house, that had seemed filled only seconds ago, now looked completely empty. Seneca stared at the space as his jaw dropped in shock. The attic was dark. But even in that, he had unmistakably seen the many boxes that had somehow disappeared now. It strengthened Seneca’s suspicion regarding everything. After all, the boxes had disappeared from sight, just like the boy from 2 had for half a second in the arena. But unlike the tribute, the boxes didn’t reappear. They remained invisible to Seneca. Clearly they contained technology that could help the tribute from 2 momentarily escape the eyes of the Capitol in the arena. He had to get to the bottom of this. With that, he started yet again towards the attic. This time however, he was stopped by Rhea Roqford as she pushed up the retractable staircase and latched the entrance to the attic shut.

“That is enough, Mr Crane,” she said in an authoritative voice, startling the head-gamemaker a little. She looked at him directly in the eyes and continued, “I don’t know why you’re here, but it is very clear now that the reason for your visit has nothing to do with interviews because right from the moment you have entered my house, you haven’t asked a single question relating to my son.” She paused a little, before continuing, “I do not appreciate being lied to. So, unless you have a valid reason for snooping around my house, I suggest you get straight to the point, sir.”

Everyone fell quiet. While Seneca was surely startled by the sudden outburst, he looked more frustrated than offended. In his mind, he realized that he had lost his chance to check things out in the attic. So, taking the woman’s advice, he tried things with a different approach. Continuing to look at the woman, he spoke in a low, clear voice. “How did he do it?” he asked. “How did your son manage to momentarily slip away from existence?”

To this, Rhea appeared a little confused, while maintaining an annoyed facade. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She waited for Seneca to speak again, but instead, he turned to Maya. 

“What is your brother hiding?” he demanded, sharply. 

To his utter surprise, the girl who had been cowering behind her mother till now, bravely stepped forward. She spoke in a clear, convincing voice as she looked at the head-gamemaker directly in the eyes and said, “My brother is not a cheater. He’s a sincere tribute who takes the Hunger Games very seriously.”

Seneca was startled by the clarity in the girl’s voice. He was therefore robbed of words for some time, but before he could continue with interrogating the girl, her mother stepped in between and gave Seneca a scornful look.

“I hope you are not accusing my son of conning anyone, let alone the Capitol.” she said in a dangerously ominous voice. “Ours is a family that has always viewed the Capitol and the Games with nothing but the utmost respect. I therefore cannot welcome any false allegation regarding the matter. Not in my house.”

Seneca fell quiet. He understood the exact meaning of Rhea’s words.  _ Not welcome in my house _ . Her message was clearly received. He looked around, and observed the faces of the people staring at him. Maya, similar to her mother, wore a bitter look. Even his fan looked offended by everything that had happened. It made Seneca realize that he was overstaying his welcome. If he needed to get information from these people, he had to think fast and come up with something else, for he was hanging by a thread at this point.

“Now, if you would be so kind as to excuse us, we’re all missing the Game telecast for the day,” Rhea said, gesturing to the holo that was blaring downstairs. She turned and walked towards the stairs. Before stepping down the stairs however, she turned to look at Seneca. “You’re welcome to stay, but then you would miss the earliest possible train back to the Capitol. And I would hate my family to be the reason for wasting the valuable time of the head-gamemaker.”

The thread broke. Very subtly, Rhea had reminded Seneca of two things. First, that he had absolutely no reason to be here, not in their house, but rather in the District itself. Secondly, coming her had been a waste of time. From her words, the head-gamemaker quickly realized that the woman knew, much too well, that he wasn’t supposed to be here. She knew that if word was to spread about how Seneca Crane had wasted valuable time and had disappeared, especially during a time of distress, it would be a direct blow to his competency as head-gamemaker.

Both things indicated to one thing alone. It was time for him to leave.

“No, that won’t be necessary, Mrs Roqford,” he said, wistfully. “My assistant and I will just be on our way. Thank you,” he said bitterly, “for your time.”

Withthat, Seneca quickly descended the stairs and made his way towards the front doors, his assistant following suit. As he opened the doors, he turned to look at the Roqford family one last time. He looked at Rhea with particularly irate expressions, as though telling her that it was not over yet. The woman stared back stoically. Finally, he walked through the doors and away from the house.

As soon as Seneca was out the doors, Winn quietly walked over to the windows and observed the two men from the Capitol as they got into their car. Only when the car’s nearly soundless engine sounded through the quiet atmosphere and the vehicle quickly disappeared in the far away District streets, did Winn finally look at Rhea and Maya. The three of them collectively heaved a sigh of relief, but did not say anything. Only after they checked every nook of the house and ensured that the head-gamemaker hadn’t bugged the house in any way, did they finally relax.

They had successfully dodged the bullet.

Finally breaking the silence, Rhea, who appeared weary now, turned to Winn. “Thank you. You came just in time,” she said, referring to the entrance that he had made earlier. 

Seneca Crane was quite an observant man. He had noticed a lot in the house. However, the one most crucial thing that he had missed, was when Winn had carefully placed concealers at the entrance of the attic, when he had seemingly had his big reaction upon seeing his favourite gamemaker in front of him. Seneca had missed as electricity had flickered behind him, as he had been distracted by his so called fan. Once the concealers had scanned the entire attic and made its contents invisible, Winn had stopped talking and Seneca had turned to witness one of the most implausible magic tricks in his life.

“Oh no, don’t thank me,” Winn replied shaking his head. “If anything, your daughter saved us today. I mean hacking into the District surveillance is one thing, but figuring out how to use these comms to contact me, that’s a feat of genius.” he said, gesturing to a tiny black sphere in his hand. He looked at Maya and smiled. The girl truly was quite intelligent. She had an unparalleled interest in technology and was an extremely quick learner. In a way, she reminded him of himself when he was about that age.

“Yeah, if only I had remembered to check the batteries in the concealers before placing the boxes in the attic,” Maya said anxiously. Her mistake had been the reason that Seneca had noticed the attic in the first place. The concealers gave out a light when they ran out of charge and so had stopped working when the head-gamemaker had opened the attic, revealing all the boxes that lay their. Maya mentally berated herself, as she thought how If it hadn’t been for Winn’s quick timing, their secret would have been out.

“Hey, go easy on yourself,” Winn consoled her. “Mistakes like this happen to the best of us.” He gave her a warm, reassuring smile before continuing, “All that matters now, is that he’s gone. And from the serious bashing he received from you Mrs R, I’m sure he won’t be back for a long time.”

This eased the atmosphere a little, as the mother-daughter duo looked at each other and smiled. It was true. The three of them had successfully saved the one secret that tied them together. Although Rhea was still a little worried about how Seneca had reacted to the entire thing at the end, she knew for a fact that the situation was diffused, for now.

The noise of the holo behind them broke the silence, as they caught the final part of a sentence, “...better idea,” in Mon El’s voice and it made all of them turn and look at the screen.

* * *

Did sleeping in the afternoon make one lazy?

Mon El was sitting by a tree-trunk, looking at the bright blue sky above him as he mentally debated with himself on whether or not taking a nap under the scorching afternoon sun was a good idea. Granted that at the moment he was in an arena, in the middle of a dangerous ‘kill or be killed’ sporting event where even a single mis-step could result in death.

On the other hand, he was utterly, extremely bored.

After the arrival of the boy from 12, neither of them had slept for the remainder of the night. In only a few hours, the sun had risen and Kara had proceeded to explain everything that had happened with her and Mon El since the beginning of the Games, to James. Mon El hadn’t missed how she had skimmed through the part about Rue, and so hadn’t said much about it either.

James had listened to the entire thing quietly. But from the look on his face by the end of Kara’s explanation, it had been clearer than ever that he was in no way convinced. Right from the tracker-jackers to killing Thresh and Garret, in his mind, James had a simple explanation for each and everything that Mon El had done. And it had done nothing to change his assessment of the man. If anything, whatever James had heard from Kara on the matter, had only strengthened his resolve. The only reason he was even here, granted how his leg had healed over the night thanks to the Capitol medicine, was because of Kara. He was sure that she was in danger and so, wanted to do whatever he could to protect her from the man whom he had attacked the previous night. In other words, he didn’t trust the lying, manipulative Career from 2.

‘Humans called it deja-vu, right?’ Mon El thought.

Because owing to the distrust of yet another tribute from 12, Mon El was back to doing nothing. He was back to not being allowed to helping in any way possible. Right after the makeshift peace-alliance between the three of them, James had stated with extreme clarity, his thoughts about Mon El. Throughout the morning, he had, without actually stating it, displayed that he had a problem with Mon El doing anything for them, by preventing him from carrying out even the simplest of tasks. Suddenly, everything that the Career did, aroused suspicion. So, right from gathering sticks for fire to setting up traps and snares, Mon El wasn’t allowed anywhere near any of it. Even hunting had been assigned to Kara that morning on account of, ‘possibility of poisoning the meat.’ Ultimately, Mon El was no forced to do nothing and just sit by a tree-trunk.

Oh, how he had missed this.

To add to it, since Kara had gone to the deeper parts of the forest for hunting, James had volunteered to keep an eye on Mon El. That meant, sitting a few feet from the Career, not saying a word, and staring at him bitterly. 

‘This was nice,’ Mon El thought sarcastically as he genuinely considered sleeping to be a better way to pass time, given his current predicament. There was another way, however, he knew that the chances for that to work were slim. Perhaps it was worth a try.

“You don’t need to keep doing that,” he said to the man sitting a few feet from him. If James had heard him, he showed no sign of acknowledgement, causing Mon El to continue. “I mean, I’m right here, you don’t have to keep babysitting me.”

To his surprise, James did reply. “Yeah, well, I don’t think you’re as innocent as you’re letting on. No matter what you have Kara believing, I am not falling for it. I’m keeping an eye on you. So, deal with it.”

“Why, exactly?” he asked Following the question, James fell quiet. Mon El continued, “C’mon, you expect me to just sit here, the least you could do is talk to me, right?” Receiving no response yet again, he continued, “From the moment you saw me here, you’ve been distrustful. I mean I get the whole ‘not trusting a Career thing,’ but this is much more intense than that. It’s like, something personal that you have against Careers. Why is that?”

While James didn’t respond, this time, he gave a small reaction as he gripped the knife in his hand a little tighter. So, Mon El continued, “You heard everything that we went through in the arena. But you’ve said nothing about your experience. Now, I don’t know you very well, but from what I observed during training week, you have a bit of an anger management issue. And from the way you lash out, it seems like a recent happening that’s on your mind. So I’m guessing this… anger that you have against me, has something to do with what you went through in the arena?”

In that moment, James looked away, telling Mon El that his analysis was spot on. “So it’s true then.” he continued. “You went through something bad. Wanna talk about it?-”

“Just… shut up,” James suddenly cut him off. “You know me well enough to know that I’m not a tolerant guy. You don’t want to make me angry.”

At this, Mon El smirked. “Oh, I am very scared of you,” he said mockingly as James huffed and looked away. “Please.” he continued, “You and I both know that you weren’t going to kill me last night.”

The statement seemed to startle James a little, as he sharply turned to face Mon El.

From the way James had held the knife, to how bad his hand had been trembling, it was clear that he had never killed someone before. It had told Mon El quite a few things about him. More than anything, it had told him how desperately he had wanted to hide his fear.

Something clicked.

“Is that what it’s about?” he asked. “You want people to know that you’re brave? That you’re not someone who would cower from a challenge?” This time, James didn’t look away, but instead, stared at Mon El, directly in the eyes with a mixture of emotions on his face, hate being the most intense one. Mon El suddenly remembered the encounter between James and Sam on the first day of training week. Suddenly, everything fell into place, as he realized that James’s sole purpose in the arena was to ensure that all of Panem could see that he was, and by extension, his brother was not a coward. He wanted to be recognized as a fighter; a brave one. 

“You know,” Mon El spoke up, “Bravery isn’t about all the fights that you win. It’s about the ones that you choose to win. Sometimes, losing a battle takes true courage.”

If Mon El’s words had any effect on James, he didn’t let it show. The Career from 2 further wanted to tell him about how he felt regretful about everything that had happened with his brother, but something told Mon El that mentioning anything relating to that was probably not a good idea. So, he kept it to himself. After a few minutes of silence, he said, “Well, I tried. But I can tell when someone doesn't wanna talk."

“Really? You don't say," this time, it was James who responded sarcastically.

Mon El smirked as he replied, “Yeah, I would  _ hate _ to be a bother, especially considering how talking isn't really your strong suit. Now, whether it's because it's me or you just don't talk in general, I can't be sure. So, instead how about this? Whenever you're feeling chatty," he said putting his bow over his shoulder and resting his head by the tree, “just wake me up."

With that, he closed his eyes and fell asleep surprisingly quickly.

* * *

The distant crunch of leaves woke him up. He opened his eyes and stared in the direction of the sound, trying to determine its source. That was when a mix of voices reached his ears instead, causing him to turn his head. 

In front of him, he saw two blurry figures sitting not far from him, and arguing with each other. As he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, his vision cleared and revealed the familiar forms of the tributes from District 12. They had been deep in conversation about something, but as soon as he had moved, the talks had stopped abruptly. He stretched a little as he got up and made his way towards the duo. Kara greeted him with a warm smile, while James faced him with a diametrically opposite frown. The two had been having lunch which, as it turned out, included four rabbits that Kara had caught. They were roasting over a fire that had been set up a small distance from the tent.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Kara grinned as she turned the rabbits on the stick. “I thought Careers weren’t supposed to be lazy.”

Mon El responded with raised eyebrows. “Well, I thought tributes from 12 weren’t supposed to be good at hunting but here we are.”

Kara grinned in response, while James looked at him in a deadpan manner. 

As he looked at the male tribute from 12, he realized the stark difference between the two tributes from 12. Both of them were here for someone else. Both of them had faced tragedies, and had every right to feel nothing but despair; to act out of vengeance. And yet, one of them was doing just that, while the other still remained hopeful as ever. One of them wanted to shun away every help that he was given because he was afraid, while the other was equally, or even more, welcoming to people. One wanted to prove something to everyone, while the other wanted to save everyone she met. It was remarkable how different two tributes from the same District could be.

Then again, one of them was an alien, the other was not.

“How’s your leg?” Mon El asked, noticing how James was rubbing his knee, which still appeared a little sprained. Just as he was about to look away, Mon El noticed something fluorescent tied to James’s knee, mostly covered by his pants. He was about to ask about it when besides him, Kara spoke up.

“Where did you get that?” she asked pointing to the knee band. When he didn’t answer right away, she persisted. “You didn’t have that last night. Where did you find that?”

“It’s a sprain band. I just wanted my knee to heal faster,” James shrugged.

“Yeah, but where did you get it from?” Mon El asked.

“Where do you think?” James snapped at him. “These things don’t grow on trees, you know.”

“James,” Kara said with a warning in her voice. “Please, just tell us. Where did you get it from?”

Pausing for a few seconds, James finally answered.

“The Cornucopia, of course.”

At the mention of the horrid place, both Kara and Mon El looked at each other, worriedly. Both of them arrived at the same conclusion at the same time.

Observing their anxious looks, James quickly explained, “Relax, I checked for the freaking Careers before I went. They weren’t anywhere near the place. I got in and out quickly.”

“That’s impossible.” This time, Mon El snapped. “Sam would never leave the Cornucopia unguarded. And if you didn’t see anyone then that means-”

“It was a set-up” Kara concluded.

Mon El looked at the two tributes from 12 in front of him. “We need to get out of here.” he said, looking out in the distance in front of him. “If he didn’t see anyone after leaving then-”

“Then we followed him here.”

James tensed up. Kara curled her fist into a ball and Mon El swiftly knocked an arrow and pointed it towards the source of the sound behind him.

Julia smiled, as she observed the three tributes in front of her. Around them, Careers emerged from the trees one-by-one and ominously stood with their weapons drawn out, surrounding them. James slowly got up, looking at everyone around them. Kara stood in place, as her eyes travelled around her. Mon El maintained his stance and looked directly in front of him.

“Smart as always, space boy,” Julia grinned. “This one however, not so much,” she said, gesturing to James. “Poor guy. Had no idea. I mean, we knew he would lead us straight to you all, but it was just way too easy. So easy, it seemed like cheating.”

From behind them, Grace laughed a little, while everyone else grinned proudly. Sam remained stoic.

“Oh c’mon Mon El,” Julia continued. “I know you wanna play the hero here, but we got you surrounded. Fair and square. Nothing either of you can do.” she said, shooting a villainous look at Kara. “Drop the weapon,” she said as her smile disappeared.

Mon El maintained his posture, keeping the arrow pointed at Julia. Only after a few drawn out seconds, he slowly lowered the weapon, keeping the arrow drawn. Maintaining eye-contact with her, he ensured that she was distracted, as he took aim without looking and released the arrow.

The arrow struck a snare right by Julia’s leg, and instantly, it clamped her foot, clutching her in place. As she screamed, Mon El quickly turned. Removing a small knife from his pocket, he threw it at Trevor, who was standing behind him with his own arrow knocked and aimed at him. The knife cut the taut string of his bow, rendering the weapon useless. Besides him, Kara ran and without warning jumped on Sam who was standing only a few feet from him. James engaged in combat with Grace, struggling to snatch the spear from her hands.

Chaos took over. Kara aimed a punch at Sam, who ducked in the last second before grabbing Kara’s wrist and twisting her arm. Kara barely registered the pain, as she used her other arm and punched Sam in the face, causing her to stumble back. Even then, she didn’t let go of Kara’s arm, causing her to stumble forward as well. Both women fought tooth and nail. To any spectator, it was clear that both of them were equally matched. Every time Sam gained the upper hand, Kara snatched it back and took the lead. Finally, Kara found a weak spot, and realized how Sam didn’t rely much on her footwork. Quickly taking advantage of this information, she kicked her on the knees, causing Sam to fall on her back. Immediately, Kara kneeled besides her and trapped both her hands. 

Suddenly, a low growl sounded across the forest.

Before she knew it, a large mutt pounced on Kara and knocked her away.

James fought hard. He struggled a little, before he finally managed to snatch away the spear from Grace’s hand. Using brute force, he snapped the spear in half and threw it away. Quickly, Grace aimed a punch at his ribs and struck him sharply. James yelped in pain and acted on instinct as he removed a knife from his jacket and slashed at Grace. Trying to dodge, she moved back, giving James the opportunity to punch her. Too distracted by the punch, he lifted her off the ground and all but threw her on the ground. 

Heaving a little, he didn’t notice, as suddenly, heavy-set arms appeared from behind and trapped him in a headlock.

Mon El took note of the mutts appearing. In all the chaos, he was the only one remaining, who still had a weapon at hand. Suddenly, a mutt charged at him at full speed. He turned and shot it. Suddenly, behind him, he heard someone running towards him. Trevor was running towards him. Right as he was about to attack him, Mon El shot an arrow, but right in that moment, Trevor jumped out of the way. Trevor continued running, but stopped, as a large mutt stood between him and Mon El.

Besides him, Mon El heard James struggling, trying to get out of the headlock that the boy from 4 had trapped him in. 

“Go ahead,” Jeff yelled. “You shoot me, I kill him.” He smiled madly, as he continued, “You can’t save your so-called friend, space bo-”

His statement was cut short, as Mon El shot the arrow, and it struck Jeff’s hand right in the centre. Jeff screamed instead, and distractedly, released James, who knelt down to catch his breath.

Behind him, Kara was fighting with the large mutt, who seemed to have gotten stronger than before. She struggled, trying to gain the upper hand, while the mutt hungrily tried to end her life. Suddenly, she remembered what a mutt similar to this one, had made her do. She was suddenly reminded of Rue’s innocent face; her beautiful smile. Her anger returned. All of a sudden, she fought with a renewed determination. She managed to slip away from under the mutt and quickly stood behind it. She used her arms and hung on to the mutt’s scaly neck. Using nearly every bit of her strength, she pulled the mutt down and in the next second, twisted its neck.

The mutt died, instantly.

“Fall back,” Sam finally yelled to all the Careers.

“But Sam-” Julia, who had finally managed to free herself from the trap, began to argue. One look at the girl from 2 however, made her realize that there was no arguing. Shequickly turned and headed towards the Cornucopia. Behind her, Sam, who was followed by Trevor, and a staggering Grace and Jeff, followed suit and left.

Mon El, Kara and James ran in the opposite direction. They ran as fast as they could, cutting across the dense forest, taking turns to strike down a mutt whenever possible. Finally, when they reached a spot near the river, Kara looked behind her. No more mutts were following them now. Panting slightly, she took note of her allies.

They were safe.

‘For now,’ Mon El thought to himself. Now that they were the only ones remaining, he had no doubt in mind. This wasn’t the final ambush they would have to face. The Careers would be back. It was part of their training. Leaning by a tree nearby, he was lost deep in thought, as Kara looked at him worriedly.

“Everyone okay?” she asked.

James, who was still out of breath, gave her a thumbs up. But Mon El remained still. Because things weren’t okay. They weren’t going to be, unless he did what he had to.

Setting his resolve in his mind, he looked at Kara, who looked back anxiously.

He knew what he had to do.

* * *

Inside the Cornucopia, all Careers, barring Mon El, were scornfully tending to their wounds. No one wanted to say it, but nearly everyone had one thing in mind.

They had lost. The tributes from an outskirt District along with space boy had made an utter fool of them. 

“How are we gonna get them now?” It was Grace who broke the silence. Her voice was laced with accusation, as she turned to Sam and said what each one of them was thinking in that very moment. “Why did we fall back, we could’ve won out there. You-”

Although she wanted to continue, Jeff, who was nearest to her, bandaging his arm, stopped her and gave her a warning look.

“Guys, there’s no need to fight.” Julia broke through the tension in the atmosphere. “We’ve trapped that guy from 12 before. He’s the weakest link of the group. To find them, We’ll just have to do it again.”

“Yeah, sorry to interrupt,” a man’s voice sounded through, as he entered the Cornucopia, causing every Career barring one to draw out their weapon and point it at him. 

“But what if I told you I had a better idea,” 

Mon El smiled malevolently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! That was something, yeah?!  
Points I would like to address:  
1\. Maya is SMORT. So is Rhea and So is Winn!  
2\. One thing that I didn't quite like in both universes (HG and SG) was the unnecessary use of a love triangle as a plot device. Like why?! So, that was something I wanted to avoid at all costs. I won't be pairing Kara and James up romantically. Because the relationship that exists between them is one that is just as important: Friendship
> 
> 3\. The ending: I'm not saying Mon El is evil, but the guy who played Mon El, also played Kai Parker, so....  
anything's possible!
> 
> Until Next Time!


	25. A Ploy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He will reveal the truth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ploy to survive.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Trevor asked in a low growl.

Not unlike the rest of the Careers, he shot daggers at the intruder standing at the entrance of the Cornucopia. Maintaining a steady grip on the tail of the arrow, he pulled the string of the bow a little, preparing to shoot the boy from the 2 at the slightest provocation. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Grace ready to maim Mon El with a spear, while Jeff and Julia held their defensive positions, ready to pounce on the man and pummel him to the ground. It was an unusual visual. Every death that the Career pack had caused in the arena, had required one, at most two members to get the kill. Never had there been a moment when a tribute had been faced by all five, deadly Careers together, moments away from sounding the death-canon. Accordingly, Trevor expected any sane man to cower away and run for their lives.

He was therefore quite confused when Mon El continued to smile.

The male tribute from 2 appeared, in no way, even a little scared. Standing with his arms down, he wore his bow around his shoulders indicating that he wasn’t intimidated by the many lethal tributes in front of him. Appearing nonchalant, nearly bored even, he tilted his head as he slowly observed everyone around him, greeting each Career with a vengeful grin. He was about to walk inside the Cornucopia when,

“Take one more step forward and I drive this spear through your neck,” Grace, who was standing closest to the entrance, warned him.

This wiped the smile across his face, but not entirely. But instead of a fearful look, it gave way to confusion, surprising the rest of the Careers yet again. He took another moment to observe everything, as though confirming something before he began. “Wait, hold on,” he said in a nearly exaggerated tone. “This is- wow, this is much worse than I thought,” he exclaimed. “I mean I thought you guys just wanted to look badass for the cameras but this- you’re actually threatening me.” He paused for a moment as everyone remained quiet, baffled by his words.

“Wow, I- this is not the welcome I expected.” he continued, as his audience observed his disappointed looks, incredulously. “Can I ask why though? I mean, why all the hostility? We’re all on the same team, I’m on your side-”

“Oh yeah?” Jeff spoke up. “Do you always try to shoot your team-members?” he asked sarcastically, as he held up his bandaged palm.

To this, Mon El smirked, as he replied, “Buddy, you got yourself shot.” Turning to everyone, he continued, “I didn’t ask any of you to attack me out of nowhere. Especially, when I was in the middle of a very important mission.”

“What mission?” Julia asked, annoyance clear in her voice.

The question seemingly startled Mon El as he paused yet again and looked at everyone in surprise. “Did you not know?” he asked. “Did Sam and I not tell you about this?”

The uncertainty on the faces of his fellow Careers seemingly solved something in his mind, as he looked up and spoke more to himself than anyone else, “Huh,” he said with raised brows. “I guess we just always assumed you guys would figure it out on your own. Perhaps we overestimated your thinking abilities.” he smiled, noticing how nearly everyone became visible tenser than before.

At that, Grace stepped forward and pressed the tip of the spear to his neck. “My offer still stands,” she seethed. “Explain what you're talking about right now.”

Mon El smiled as he tilted his head a little but continued to smile. “Yeah, you don’t need to do that,” he said, pushing the spear away. “I’m more than happy to explain.” 

“My mission was to form an alliance with the girl from District 12. To observe her skills and gain her trust. Basically, to find out the best way to kill her.”

The Career pack was lost for words. Silence stretched on in the Cornucopia, as no one responded to Mon El’s words. “Sam and I knew, right from the beginning, that she was a strong contender; strong enough to make it all the way to the end even, if the right precautions weren’t taken,” he continued. “So, the most obvious thing to do, was to gain her trust. Really make her believe that I was not like the rest of the ‘manipulative’ Careers.” he air-quoted. “You know, the killy ones,” he said with a smile. “That when the time came, she could count on me.” 

“But in order to do that, I had to do something exceptional; totally out of the ordinary,” he explained to his dumbfounded audience. “An act of valour, if you will. So I saved her life. Many times. But that was surprisingly not enough. I gotta admit, I panicked a little, in the beginning when I felt my efforts were failing, but then, it turned out that all I really needed to do, to get her to believe me, was kill some random tributes.” he smirked a little. “Ironic, when you think about it.”

Silence was the only response that his audience gave him, as they tried to process the information that he had provided. All of a sudden, Julia found her voice back, as she spoke up. “Are you kidding us right now?” she said bitterly, without the faintest hint of humour in her eyes.

“Oh c’mon Julia!” Mon El exclaimed. “You of all people have to believe me. You were there when the whole thing began.” Receiving confused looks from the female tribute from District 4, he continued. “We were patrolling… We saw smoke… I suggested we should split up,” he said, as though trying to jog up her memories.

“Yeah, and you ran away from the group, not to be seen afterwards.” Julia countered, sharply.

“Only after you were distracted by a  _ fake _ fire,” he replied, stressing on his words. “Now, if I really wanted to escape alone, tell me Julia, how did I set up a trick-fire all the way across the arena? I can’t be in two places at once, can I?” He paused as he waited for a response, but it never came, as Julia seemed lost in thought. Upon seeing this, Mon El laughed a little. “Wow!” he said with a grin. “What is it like in your rarely-used, dumb little brains? It must be so relaxing!”

The spear that he had pushed away reappeared by his neck. “Careful with what you say,” Grace uttered in a warning tone. This time, however, instead of pushing the blade away, Mon El turned to face Grace, causing the spear to press on his neck slightly more.

With intense, admonishing eyes, he looked at her, as he uttered. “You’re not scaring anybody. So if you wanna kill me, I suggest you do it.” He paused a little, before continuing, “But, if you do, then you would lose the only chance you have at gaining an upper hand over the female tribute from District 12.”

“Why would I care about her?” Grace rebutted, albeit with a slight hesitation.

“Well, you should,” Mon El answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “Considering how she’s one of the few tributes to actually score an eleven in her individual assessment.”

This statement, it seemed, was enough to discourage the girl from 1, as she looked slightly taken aback by the response, but also lost the conviction that she had in her eyes from moments before. The mention of individual assessment scores was like a cold splash of reality. One wherein she needed to entertain the possibility that a girl from an outskirt District was actually better than her. Her train of thoughts was broken, as Mon El said exactly what she was (and she was sure everyone in the room was) thinking at that very moment.

“She’s strong, fast and incredibly smart. Plus, she fights better than most of you,” he said, looking at each of the Careers in front of him. “She’s a survivor, and a good one at that. You can’t hunt her down like all the others that you’ve encountered in the arena, so far. She’s gonna be much more of a challenge. Unlike anything most of you have faced before. So, if you want even a little bit of a chance at winning this, the only way you can do that is with my help.”

Mon El paused as everyone in the room considered his offer. At that moment, it was clear to each tribute standing in the Cornucopia, that Mon El’s words made sense. With reference to individual assessment scores, they knew that Mon El too was one of the few tributes who had received an eleven. Clearly, he was strong and knew exactly what he was doing. The thought of challenging him, caused the Career’s resolve against him, to break with every passing second. Although their weapons were still pointed at him, one could tell from the expressions on their faces that they had nearly no intention of using said weapons now.

“Stand down,” Sam finally spoke up, causing every head in the Cornucopia to turn in her direction. That was when most of the Careers noticed the smile on her face. It told them quite a few things. Most importantly, it confirmed Mon El’s story. One by one, the Careers relaxed. Jeff was the first one to give up his defensive stance, quickly followed by Grace, who lowered the spear. Julia relaxed hesitantly, still staring at the boy from 2 with begrudging eyes. Finally, as Sam turned to look beside her, she noticed the only person who was still pointing an arrow at Mon El.

“Trevor?” she said in a questioning tone, laced with a warning.

But the male tribute from 1 did not back down. “Yeah, I’m not buying any of it,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the boy from 2. “His story sounds tempting, but that’s all that it is. A story. Why should I believe a word of it?”

Sam slowly walked towards the centre of the room, as the rest of the Careers watched with bated breaths. She stopped in front of Mon El and turned to face Trevor, coming in between him and his shot. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” she said, looking at him directly in the eyes.

“Yeah, well I guess it’s about time we started thinking for ourselves, Sam,” he replied scornfully, without missing a beat.

Around him, every Career, barring the tributes from 2, tensed up a little. They had a hard time believing what was happening in front of their very eyes, as Trevor verbally challenged the female from 2. Sam on the other hand, remained impassive, as she simply acknowledged his words with raised brows and a hum. She turned to Mon El.“Well, what can you do,” she said with a shrug. “You can’t argue with that logic.”

“I wouldn’t want people to think that I’m a  _ control-freak _ .” she said in a similar casual tone.

Trevor froze as he heard the exact term that she had used and the way that she had said it. ‘Control freak.’ He froze, as he remembered using that term in a conversation about going against the leadership of the female tribute from 2. 

A secret conversation that he had had with the female tribute from 4.

He suddenly realized everything. The plan to get rid of Sam. The deal that he had made with Julia. It had all been a set-up. One to ensure that he would be singled out. With an incredulous look in his eyes, he looked over to the girl from 4. Suddenly, he felt a chill run down his spine, as he saw a malicious grin on her face, that confirmed his suspicion. He had been hoaxed; tricked into foolishly going against one of the strongest Careers in the group, all by himself.

He suddenly felt the anger that took over him, as he glared at Julia. Swiftly, he turned his weapon away from Mon El, and quickly aimed it at the girl from 4 instead. He yelled, “You bitc-”

But before he could finish, a knife lodged itself in his throat, causing him to drop the bow and arrow and clutch his neck. With eyes full of shock, he turned towards his attacker. That was when he saw Sam, who was facing him, with an extended arm. The cold smile on her face was the last thing he saw, as he fell to his knees. 

“Watch your language,” Sam said to the lifeless form in the centre of the Cornucopia.

Moments later, the death-canon sounded.

“So,” Sam said, as though wanting to move on to more important things. “Now that that’s done, anyone else got a problem with Mon El?” Looking around her, Sam observed the faces of everyone in the room. Jeff appeared shocked, but was trying his best to remain stoic. Julia’s lips had curved into a tiny, nearly undetectable smile. Grace, though she appeared aghast as she stared at the lifeless form of the male tribute from her District, she remained completely still. “Good,” Sam continued. “Let’s get back to business. We don’t have time to waste.” She swiftly walked over to the far side of the Cornucopia looking at the many weapons that hung on the wall. “Could someone get him out of here please?” she said, gesturing to the corpse in the room. “The hovercraft should have no trouble finding him and taking him away.”

* * *

The sound of the death-canon pulled her out of her thoughts, as she looked worriedly in the distance.

For the longest time, Kara had been sitting by a tree and quietly observing the horizon. The sun was setting now. She marvelled at the golden light that shone across the dense forest. The trees were illuminated on one side, casting a long shadow in the opposite direction. With her enhanced vision, she could see the tiny dew drops on the leaves and the wisps of the scattered cloud cover above her. The sky had taken on a different shade all together. It was orange now, with specks of purple in between. It always unnerved her a little, how much detailing went into every arena for the Hunger Games, each year. If it weren’t for the little discrepancies that only her enhanced vision could notice, along with the constant hum of electricity around her, Kara could convince herself completely that instead of the arena for the 74th Annual Hunger Games, she was sitting in the peaceful forest back home.

How she wished she was there right now.

Time worked differently in the arena, for the gamemakers decided how long the days spanned. Therefore, Kara couldn’t be sure of the exact time in the world outside. Going from the atmosphere around her, she guessed it was late evening. She tried to imagine what she would normally be doing right now, were she not chosen for the Games. Sun-down marked the end of her shift in the lab. Back in 12, she, along with her best friend Eve, would be hurrying out the mundane District workshop and walking back home. She smiled, as she remembered how much both of them loved to watch the sunset, and so, would try whenever they could, to leave in order to catch the final wisps of the evening. 

A part of her, reminded her, that her dream was flawed, for if she were back home, Eve would not have been with her. It would’ve been Eve who would’ve had to face everything that she had in the arena. But she ignored it. Just like she had been trying her level best to ignore everything else that was currently happening. It was why she was dreaming about home in the first place. She desperately wanted to distract herself from everything. If not for a fantasy about home, her mind would have been filled with concern; with unavoidable worry.

It had been hours since Kara, James and Mon El had escaped the sudden ambush by the deadly Careers. Hours since they had killed the last of the many mutts that had been following them. After that, things had gone by in a blur. Long minutes had passed by, as the three of them had remained silent, robbed momentarily of speech as a result of the sudden havoc that they had faced. The intensity that the Careers had fought with had taken its toll on the three of them both physically and emotionally. The Careers fought without even the slightest caution. Ruthlessly, with determination. It was a reminder of how desperate every tribute in the arena was getting. To finally put an end to everything. To go home. 

It reminded them that the end was near.

“He’s not coming back.”

James’s voice snapped Kara out of her reverie and caused her to close her eyes and sigh a little frustratedly. She observed quietly, as he walked over to a nearby tree and sat by it. The look on his face said it all. It reminded Kara of the ordeal that had lead up to this very moment.

Mon El had been the first one to recover from the dismal atmosphere that had settled around them. “We need a plan of attack,” he had said, capturing Kara and James’s attention. “They’re not gonna stop coming after us. We have to ensure that the next time they attack, we’re ready for it.”

“They’re way too strong,” James had said in a resigned tone. “And the mutts keep coming. I’m not sure if we can handle another attack like that.”

“Their base is the Cornucopia,” Kara had realized. “The one predictable thing about the Careers is that they always return to the Cornucopia for supplies, right?” Looking at Mon El, she had continued, “We can use that to our advantage.”

“Yeah, well except they won’t leave the place alone now.Not after today,” he had replied. “If we wanna get anywhere close to the Cornucopia, we’re gonna need a distraction. Something big enough to draw all of them away.” His words had been followed by silence, as the three of them had thought intensely of a way to solve their problem. After a few stretched minutes, Mon El had said, “Well, I can’t think of anything right now. I guess the fight’s still lodged in my mind.” After a pause, almost as though preparing himself to say what he was about to say next, he continued, “I think I’m gonna go hunt to clear my mind a bit.”

Kara had found the response to be strange, but hadn’t said anything. Only when he packed his gear and was about to leave, she called out from behind, “You sure about this?”

Turning to face her, he had given her a reassuring look. But not unlike the many times before, Kara had noticed how his eyes had betrayed him yet again. “I’ll be okay,” he had said as convincingly as he could, before turning and leaving.

That was the last she had seen of him.

“I keep telling you we can’t trust him,” James brought her back to reality, yet again. “No matter what he’s told you, Kara, at the end of the day, the fact remains. He’s a Career. I don’t know why you’re so hell-bent on trying to prove otherwise.”

Kara sighed, as thought about her response. After a few silent minutes, she finally turned to face James. “Do you know when I started trusting him?” she asked. “When I was finally convinced?” Receiving no response from her fellow tribute from 12, she continued. “Before the mutts first appeared, there was a surge of light. The entire arena was filled with bright, blinding light.” She noticed how James nodded, as he remembered the incident as well. “Shortly after that, the mutts appeared. We were so disoriented by everything that we didn’t even notice when two tributes, the guys from 11 and 5, I think, attacked us.”

She paused a little, before continuing, “At the time, our alliance consisted of three people. Rue, this… thirteen-year old from 11, she was part of the alliance. And I had sworn to protect her. But one thing led to another and the boy from 5 had an arrow pointed directly at me and I froze. So Mon El took over.” Before James could interrupt, she quickly continued. “Even then, I wasn’t fully sure. That wasn’t what convinced me.” Looking at how James fell silent again, she continued, “It was what happened after that.”

“Rue had climbed a tree and was hiding there. I thought she was safe from everything but… Thresh, the guy from her District, he spotted her. He had a spear aimed at her and was about to shoot, when Mon El intervened. Mon El had a clear shot. He had already nocked the arrow, but before he released it, he whistled. Distracted Thresh and caused him to lower the spear.”

Kara was lost in thought while James finally began to understand. “It all happened so fast,” she continued, “but even in that moment, he ensured that the spear didn’t accidentally misfire and hit Rue. Only when he was absolutely sure that she was safe, did he shoot Thresh.” Looking at James, she said, “He never wanted to kill. He only wanted to save.”

James looked down, as he considered Kara’s words. Kara looked away. The memory had caused unwanted memories to resurface. She closed her eyes and quickly preventing the single tear-drop that threatened to spill from her eyes. A long moment passed in silence, when all of a sudden,

“My first few days in the arena, I didn’t have many supplies,” James began abruptly. “As soon as the countdown clock struck zero, I just grabbed the pack closest to me and ran in the opposite direction of the Cornucopia. I spent a long time, just wandering about the forest. Every night, I would climb whatever tree I could find and sleep there.”

He paused for a moment, took a deep breath and continued. “One night, after the bright flash, I suddenly heard a girl screaming. I was on a high branch so I looked around and tried to find out what was happening. That…” he paused again. “That was when I saw her. I don’t know where she was from, but she was pretty young. She was running from two mutts that were chasing after her.”

“By the time that she got to the tree that I was in,... the animals finally caught up.” He took in a shaky breath as he continued. “She kept screaming… begging for it to stop. And in the middle of that, I heard someone else approaching. I looked to the far side and saw the boy from 1 and the girl from 4. I thought, hopefully they would kill the girl. Put her out of her misery.” He spoke the next few words in a controlled manner. “But they just stood there… Did nothing to help her, or kill her.”

“Because the views mattered,” he seethed. “The kill was much more  _ interesting _ this way. They left after a couple of seconds and the girl kept screaming. Until finally, she was torn apart by the two beasts. The death-cannon sounded a couple of seconds after that.”

Both of them remained quiet, as Kara, horrified by the ordeal tried her level best to calm herself, while James simply looked away, anger clear in his eyes. She wanted, desperately to not believe a word that James had said. She wanted all of it to be nothing more than a horrible nightmare. She found it hard to breathe, as she realized, however, that it was all real. The realest reality of the Games.

Neither of them spoke for quite some time after that. Memories haunted James while emotions nearly overwhelmed Kara. After a stretched few minutes, James finally spoke again. “This is what they’re trained for, Kara. Apart from weaponry, these are some of the skills that they’re taught. They know how to manipulate a situation to get what they want.”

Kara understood very clearly what James wanted to say. She understood his reasons for not trusting the Careers. After a minute of silence, she suddenly got up, startling James a little, as he looked at her with knitted brows.

“I trust him, James,” she said with clarity in her voice. “We have to go.”

“Where?” James asked.

“I trust Mon El. It doesn’t mean we have to stay in one place. We need to keep moving,” she said cryptically, before gathering their supplies and walking downhill, in the direction of the Cornucopia, as James followed suit.

* * *

“Can’t believe he was right!” Seneca exclaimed.

After the unceremonious farewell from the Roqford house, Seneca had begrudgingly sat in the vehicle that had taken him all the way to the outskirts of District 2 and had headed back to the train station. Inside, a special screen had been set up, so the head-gamemaker could keep a watch on all the happening inside the arena. After a brief recap of the events that he had missed, Seneca had quickly caught up with everything, right until the moment when the boy from 2 had left his allies from 12.

What had happened after that had felt like the early arrival of christmas for Seneca.

Because it had all been a ploy. The manipulative Career from 2 had been playing the tributes from 12 this entire time. The alliance was a lie; meant only to ensure that the Careers could bring down the female tribute from District 12. After the longest time, Seneca actually felt relieved by the happenings in the Games. The 74th Annual Hunger Games had been, by far, the most stressful of his entire career. But now, things were finally getting better. The riots had already mellowed after the two victors announcement. Now that the boy from 2 had revealed that the alliance was a ploy, Seneca had no reason to worry about the rule-change. Soon, everything would finally be back to normal, and there would be nothing left to sort out.

In the back of his mind, Seneca realized that he had one person to thank for his impeccable instincts. ‘Harrison Wells had been right all along.’ he thought incredulously.

“Mon El is more cunning than you think,” Wells had told him. “The only thing that truly matters to him, is returning home to his family. He’s not gonna put that in jeopardy. I assure you, that when the time comes, when he feels that this so-called alliance is dwindling in any possible way, he will retaliate. He will reveal the truth.”

“It doesn’t seem like that at the moment,” Seneca had frustratedly argued.

“He’s in the arena, Seneca,” Wells had told him. “He’s playing the game.”

‘How true it was,’ Seneca thought now, as he walked towards his private train. ‘How true indeed.’

Lost in happy thoughts, he didn’t notice, as George hurriedly walked towards him in the empty platform with grim expressions on his face.

“Sir,” he said, snapping Seneca out of his thoughts. “We have a… complication.” He continued in a hushed voice, “It seems that the riots in 11 have caused some problems in the tracks. A group of people disrupted the rail-lines running through towards the Capitol. While that’s under repair, we’ll have to take an alternative train-route.”

“How much delay?” Seneca asked worriedly.

“Two days.”

‘Great,’ Seneca thought sarcastically. Two more days before he could return to the Game-headquarters and take over. He sighed, frustratedly as he berated himself, yet again, over his stupid decision of coming all the way to District 2.

A few minutes later, as he sat in his private train and it began moving towards the forest in the outskirts of District 12, which was part of their alternative route, he thought begrudgingly to himself, ‘What the hell was he doing here.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... Yeah.....!
> 
> 1\. This was such an interesting chapter to write. Aside from the girl killed by the mutts part. I'm so excited to see your reaction to the 'twist in the tale'!! So, do let me know.  
2\. The Career dynamic is changing. How do we feel about Julia's betrayal, folks?!  
3\. James wanted to desperately help the girl, but couldn't because first off, he didn't have a weapon at the time. And secondly, even if he did, he would not have been able to kill.  
4\. The girl's death (it was horrible to write) was actually part of the HG book/movie. Cato falls among the mutts and to ensure that the 'final death' gets a good rating or whatever, they ensure to kill him as torturously as possible. Katniss takes mercy on him and shoots him with an arrow. I just thought about how things would be if Katniss hadn't been there.  
5\. Seneca is happy! (not for long!)
> 
> Until Next Time!


	26. Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you follow my plan to the tee, by the end of today, we’ll hear a death-canon with her picture displayed above the Cornucopia."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONGEST. CHAPTER. EVER!

He tried to comfort her, as tears flowed freely from her eyes.

_ Earlier _

The atmosphere inside the Cornucopia had changed into a much more active one. The sudden, abrupt death of the male tribute from District 1 had caused every remaining tribute, barring the ones from 2, to realize the gravity of the situation. Until the moment that Mon El had shown up, things were quite simple. The pack of Careers had to hunt down every non-Career in the arena, along with a member of their own team that had betrayed them. Now however, everything had changed. 

Now that Mon El had rejoined the group and proven with room for little doubt that he had never really crossed the Careers in the first place, it reduced the number of targets remaining. There now remained only two tributes that they had to kill, before their already shaky alliance broke. While each tribute that was currently in the Cornucopia had seen this coming right from the beginning, the fact that pretty soon, their so-called allies would be turning on one another, unnerved the majority of them, given the current circumstances.

For starters, Trevor’s death was still a shock. It was one neither of the non-District 2 Careers had comprehended. It had especially affected Grace, as ever since the incident, she had fallen quiet, tending to her injuries and sharpening her spear with a bitter look on her face. In a different year of the Games, she probably would not have been as affected by a fellow tribute’s death. But the 74th Annual Hunger Games was allowed to have two victors. Ever since the announcement had been made, each tribute had kept a closer watch on their fellow tributes from their own Districts. While each of them had been trained for killing to win, irrespective of where their opponent came from, the offer of being able to return home with their fellow tribute was still quite lucrative to dismiss right away.

Julia, on the other hand, did a much better job of hiding her emotions and thoughts. Nonetheless, she was just as upset as the girl from 1. The female tribute from 4 had, in a way, caused Trevor’s inevitable death. She therefore wasn’t as shocked about the whole thing. Right from the moment that she had met him, she had figured him out to be the weak link in the group, and had expected him to be one of the first ones to die, among the Career pack. Thus, it wasn’t the death itself that was bothering her. 

It was everything preceding it.

Julia understood that every tribute who could remain secretive inside the arena, was a threat. The level of threat, depended on how long they could maintain a facade. Based on her initial assessment, she had categorized Grace and Trevor as a relatively low-level threat, for it always seemed that they had no intentions of hiding whatever went on in their minds at all. The same could not be said about the tributes from District 2, especially now that Mon El had revealed their ‘secret’ mission. She knew Sam was not someone to be taken lightly. But after finding out that the girl had managed to not only facilitate Mon El’s mission in the beginning, but also keep it a secret from every other Career for so long, Julia sorely realized that she had underestimated the dangerous duo from 2. She knew that if she planned on making it out of the arena alive, she needed to tread very carefully. Before anything else, she needed to figure out exactly what the two of them had in mind. They had tricked the rest of the group once, making each one of them, including Julia feel immensely stupid. She couldn’t let that happen to her again. She needed to concentrate on every word of their upcoming plan.

Almost as it on cue, Mon El got up and said to himself, “Yeah, that should do.” He had been kneeling on the ground at the near centre of the Cornucopia, busy with something. As he got up and moved back a little, allowing every other Career to see his work, each Career stepped forward with piqued curiosity. In front of them, in the dirt on the ground was a map of the entire arena. In the centre, lay a circle with a tip extending from it. It was labelled ‘Cornucopia.’ Around it, each direction was marked according to the Career nomenclature, with the direction that the tip pointed towards being North. A squiggly line on the West was labelled as ‘River,’ while the remaining area, though it wasn’t labelled, represented the thick forest.

“So, in case anyone’s wondering,” Mon El began, “this is a very crude depiction of the arena for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. Not to scale, I’m afraid, but the directions are exactly accurate.” He grinned a little as he looked at every face that was busy studying the map. Once he was sure that he had their undivided attention, he continued, “Now, last time I saw the tributes from 12, I had left them here in the West,” he said, pointing towards the river. “That was about a day ago. I told them I was gonna go hunt in order to clear my mind!” he smiled.

Before he could continue, Jeff spoke up, “You haven’t been back for an entire day. Won’t they get suspicious?”

“Oh they will,” he replied without missing a beat. “I’m actually counting on it.” Before he explained any further, he looked at Jeff, his smile giving way to a stern look. “I would also appreciate if I’m not interrupted till I’m done. You know, to avoid confusion.” Jeff stared back angrily, but did not respond. Instead, he brought his cold gaze down to the map in front of him. A second later, Mon El continued, “From what I know about her, she won’t lose faith in her ally right away. I mean, after all, I did help her get through everything till now, didn’t I? But that will not stop her from staying on the move. She’s seen the patrolling, so she’s not gonna stay in the same place for too long. Which means that there is a zero percent chance that they’re where I left them. So they are definitely not in the West,” he said, before proceeding to mark a small ‘X’ near the squiggly line.

“That’s your plan?” Grace snapped. “Using process of elimination?!” she exclaimed incredulously.

“Again with the interruptions,” Mon El said in a mock exasperated tone. “The lack of faith you all have in me is truly astounding.” As the girl from 1 fell quiet, he continued. “Process of elimination is a terrible idea,” he explained irritatedly. “It’s how patrolling works in the first place and I have already told you that hunting her down would not be that easy. She’s a strategist. So she’ll think very carefully rather than just picking a random direction and heading towards it.” He exhaled slowly, before continuing. “Fortunately for us, I happen to know how her mind works.” Pointing to the sides of the Cornucopia, he continued, “Heading East would be incredibly risky, considering how she has no idea where either of the Careers are. Safest assumption in a situation like this, is that every Career is in the Cornucopia. We do depend on it a lot. In her words, the Cornucopia is the one ‘predictable’ thing about us. That means that she’s gonna want to keep an eye on all the activity that happens here. That includes all the comings and goings. That means-” he prompted Sam to finish the statement.

As the girl from 2 figured it out, she smiled and said, “She’s headed South.”

“The opening of the Cornucopia is directed that way,” Mon El explained. “And from what I remember when I patrolled the area, you can get a clear view of this place and remain hidden from sight behind the dense jungle.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Julia spoke up. “Let’s go get her.” This time, Mon El simply looked at her and sighed. Upon noticing the look on his face, she added, “I thought you were done talking.”

“Well, I’m not,” Mon El replied. “Because according to my plan, we make groups of two and head in the East and West directions.”

“Why?” Julia countered, raising her voice just a little. “If we know where she is, let’s just go there in a pack and get it over with.”

This time, Sam intervened and explained, “If she has a clear view of this place she will see us coming from miles away.” 

“What does it matter?” Julia rebutted. “We’ll spread out and catch her. She won’t get far.”

“Actually she will,” Mon El replied. Although he hadn’t raised his volume, the tone of his voice was enough to keep Julia quiet. “You seem to keep forgetting that she scored an eleven in her assessment. She’s smart. If she realizes we’re onto her, she’ll disappear from right under our noses. Believe me, the element of surprise is the one thing that we have on our side. Heading in diametrically opposite directions for some distance, you’ll be able to close in on her from both sides. If you follow my plan to the tee, by the end of today, we’ll hear a death-canon with her picture displayed above the Cornucopia.”

That seemed to finally convince Julia, along with everyone else. Even though no one was keen on admitting it, the strategy made sense. So, they had a plan. All they needed now were specifics.

“So, it’s five of us and we need two groups. How does that work?” Grace asked.

“Actually, the groups can only consist of the four of you.” Mon El responded. Noticing how she knitted her brows in response, Mon El continued. “She may have her doubts, but a part of her still trusts me. If she sees me anywhere near this place, she’ll figure stuff out. So I have to remain hidden until you guys… get stuff done. Besides,” he added, “someone needs to stay back here.”

“What for?” Jeff asked.

“The guy from 12,” Mon El said, as though remembering a nuisance, “going from last time, I’m pretty sure he’ll be back here. This time for a sprain-spray or something,” he joked.

Five minutes later, every Career, barring Mon El, was equipped with the deadliest of weapons. Mon El had grouped Grace and Sam together and sent them towards the East quadrant, while Jeff and Julia made their way to the opposite side. Both groups ensured not to look out of place, and before long, quickly hurried into the thick forest. They had to move fast, for they had to cover extra ground in order to close in on the tribute from 12 as quickly as possible.

Owing to the hurry, neither of them noticed as Mon El exited the Cornucopia with a shovel in hand and rushed towards the tribute platforms on the far side of the Cornucopia.

He had no time to waste.

* * *

He had all the time in the world.

At least that was what Seneca would’ve liked to think, as he viewed the beautiful scenery outside. A day’s worth trip through the forest that lay in the outskirts of District 12, had caused them to stop for refuelling near the boundary of the District. 

As a result of being cooped up inside the train for all of the previous day, Seneca decided to take opportunity of the short delay in his already delayed trip to the Capitol and take a stroll through the beautiful woods that hung around them like a painting. The weather too was ideal, for a cool breeze flowed across the atmosphere and it had even begun drizzling a little. Borrowing an umbrella from the equipment’s car of the train, he picked a direction in random and started walking towards it.

The scent produced by raindrops falling on the soft soil below him eased the stress from his mind with every step. The previous day had been very taxing for the head-gamemaker. Considering everything that had happened in the arena, Seneca’s team had been expecting him in the headquarters, taking charge of the situation at hand. A rapid increase in the ratings had been observed when the male tribute from 2 had revealed his plan. People from the Districts had been mildly shocked, with the exception of District 2, that had rejoiced. Citizens of the Capitol had gone berserk with excitement. The news that Seneca wasn’t just absent from the headquarters, but also from the Capitol itself, had therefore caused quite a panic in the Game control room. 

Fortunately, Seneca had been able to call in before the situation had worsened, and had explained the details of how the final showdown needed to be handled. That had taken most of the previous day. The remaining time, had been used in coming up with an excuse for his sudden visit to the Districts. 

In all honesty, the reason was simple. The male tribute from 2 had managed to somehow hide from the cameras in the arena. Seneca simply wanted to find out how. To add to it, the short time that he had spent at the tribute’s home, had only strengthened his suspicion.

Now however, as he brought things in perspective, he realized that it was something that deserved little attention from the head-gamemaker in comparison to all the happenings in the arena. Although he still hadn’t figured it out, he figured that it was a mystery for a later time. For now, he simply focussed on the calming scenery around him, and noticed as the rain increased in intensity.

Because now, things had changed entirely. Everything was finally falling right into place. As a result, Seneca had little to worry about. Even the Districts had calmed down sufficiently. Now all Seneca needed to do, was ensure that the finale went by smoothly, without problems. ‘A simple enough task,’ he thought to himself and smiled. For the first time in quite long, the head-gamemaker finally let out a sigh of relief.

The rain was pouring down in torrents now, shifting the mud and soil below him. He realized that he needed to cut his stroll short and return to the train. Just as he was about to turn back, something shiny, lying in the mud, some distance away from him, caught his eye. Against his better judgement, he gave in to curiosity and walked a few feet towards the unidentified object. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was much larger than a speck of something shiny, like it had appeared at first glance. The more it rained, the more it was uncovered from the mud. It appeared as though it was something big, buried deep in the ground.

Seneca carefully stepped to one side of the object, and crouched down beside it. With knitted brows, he noticed as the rain uncovered more and more of the object, that now weirdly resembled a space-craft. A glass panel, stained with mud, extended from the metal body that was shaped like the fuselage of a small plane. Through the glass, he could see a seat. Seneca incredulously realized that the object in front of him was some kind of a travel-ship meant to carry one person. A travel-pod. Unlike any he had ever seen.

As the rain uncovered more of the mysterious pod, he noticed a tiny panel by the nose. Holding the umbrella above him, he slowly, carefully pushed the panel in.Instantly, it hissed open, revealing an empty stand that contained compartments meant to carry certain small objects that were now nowhere to be seen. The only compartment that was occupied was the one in the far corner. It contained a tiny bead-like device. Seneca reached in and grabbed it. In doing so, he unknowingly activated it, as the bead flickered to life, a bluish light glowing inside the core of the bead. Suddenly, a woman’s voice sounded from the bead. Seneca stared, incredulously, as he heard the woman’s words.

“Kara, my darling daughter. If you’re hearing this, then that means that you have reached Terra. If everything went right, then you must now be standing under the glow of the yellow sun. It is different from the Red sun back on Krypton. The yellow sun will give you extraordinary powers, my love. You will accomplish great things. You must be very careful around the people there. Your powers will be unparalleled. Most of all, do not be afraid. I know the planet is as alien to you, as you are to it. But I assure you my child, that some day, everything will fall into place. Some day, everything will be okay.”

The bead fell silent and lay lifelessly in Seneca’s hand, as he stared at it with an open jaw. For the longest time, Seneca remained still, afraid that everything would somehow disappear if he were to move even slightly. He momentarily forgot to breathe, as he replayed the words in his mind. Still unsure, he pressed the bead again. Only when it replayed the strange message, did he finally find it in himself to stand up to his feet.

A smile slowly crept across his face, as he carefully pocketed the foreign,  _ alien _ device in his pocket, and steadily rushed towards the train.

* * *

They rushed as quietly as possible.

Sam took the lead, while Grace followed suit, both keeping an eye on their surroundings, as they moved across the dense jungle. They had already reached deep enough into the forest, so as to remain hidden from view, and were now moving in the direction where the girl from District 12 was supposed to be. 

Neither Career wanted to talk to the other. As a result, an unpleasant silence hung around them, as the only sound that could be heard, was that of the many creatures living in the forest. Sam moved swiftly, cutting across a maze of trees and bushes. Grace, on the other hand, was slower, as she looked around her with every step, keeping her spear gripped and ready to attack. 

All of a sudden, a low growl, coming from behind them, replaced every other sound in their surroundings. It caused both Careers to stop and turn. Grace stared in the distance, trying to find the source, but knitted her brown when she could see nothing but green for miles on end. Just then, all of a sudden, the growl stopped. Instead, an uneasy silence spread through the atmosphere. It seemed as though every creature in the surrounding area had collectively taken a vow of silence. A long moment passed, as the only sound that Grace could hear was that of her own breathing.

Suddenly, a large mutt appeared out of nowhere and pounced on Sam. Taken by surprise, the female tribute from 2 fell to her back and struggled to fight off the beast. Besides her, Grace was attacked by a similar creature. But before it could pounce on her, she stabbed it with her spear, causing it to drop dead on the spot. Another mutt appeared in the distance and ran towards Grace, who was still on her feet. It jumped towards the female tribute from 1, but before it could hit its target, she lodged the blade of the spear in its throat, causing it to drop lifelessly by her feet.

Just then, another mutt appeared near Sam, who had just managed to gain a somewhat upper hand in her fight against the creature. All of a sudden, she was pushed with blunt force, as the second mutt rammed her in the side, causing her to fall on her side on the ground. She struggled as she tried to fight off both mutts that were now attacking her simultaneously.

Grace looked around her. There seemed to be no more mutts approaching. She saw how two of the deadly creatures were attacking Sam. She hurried towards where the female tribute from 2 was struggling to get back up on her feet.

And quickly hurried past her.

Grace had walked a few feet away from the scene, when she turned back and said, “For Trevor, you bitch.” With that, she disappeared behind the trees and continued moving towards her intended direction, leaving a helpless Sam behind.

* * *

Jeff and Julia hadn’t encountered any incidents so far.

They had rushed through the forest in a seemingly calm atmosphere. But like every Career knew, calm was never a good thing in the arena. So throughout their walk, they kept their guard up. They maintained constant vigilance as they walked across the numerous trees that lay in their path.

Although neither of them spoke about it, they were both busy thinking about the same thing. Ever since Mon El’s return, the tributes from 2 had been on every Career’s mind. The tributes from 4 were getting desperate. They knew that if they couldn’t figure out their plan before all of this was over, then they would need to start running for their lives the moment the girl from 12 is killed. At least Julia and Jeff had been paired together for this mission. Julia thought about how they could make a swift getaway together once their mission was complete.

Wait.

“Why would they pair us together?” Julia asked as she stopped abruptly, causing Jeff to turn and look at her. “Once the tributes from 12 are dead, Careers will be the only ones remaining,” she continued. “We can escape together by the end. Why would they let that happen?”

Jeff tried to come up with a proper explanation, but realized that he couldn’t.

“Besides,” Julia continued. “If the girl from 12 is really that smart, she surely must’ve noticed that tributes from the same District never patrol together. Won’t she figure out something’s wrong?” Julia further asked.

It took them a moment to understand the situation hand. While they still weren’t sure about what was happening exactly, they both realized together, that something was off.

“I’m gonna go back,” Jeff spoke up. “See if something’s out of place. You continue towards the girl from 12. There might still be a chance that this might work.”

With that, both tributes from 4 split up and moved in opposite directions. Neither of them knew that it was the last they would see of the other.

* * *

Mon El was nearly done.

As he connected the final wire, he got up and looked around him, inspecting his work. 

Every platform that the tributes were supposed to stand on during the countdown that prompted the beginning of the Games, now had shallow holes hear them. A mess of wires spilled from each hole, while a length of wire that ran across the circumference, connected each of the platforms together, forming a large fence, some distance around the Cornucopia. 

Mon El held one end of the wire in his hand. Only when he checked and double-checked everything around him, did he finally connect the wire to a small rectangular device. It was a switch; one that would bring the set-up that he had created to life. As soon as he connected it, a small beep could be heard. It told Mon El that the trap was live and ready.

It told him that all the explosives that were activated by motion sensors; the ones that were placed all below the ground in between the tribute platform and the Cornucopia, were now active. Mon El had connected every explosive together, triggered by the motion sensors that were already in place right from the beginning of the Games. As soon as the countdown clock struck zero, the sensors would deactivate, thereby allowing the tributes to get off of their platform and run towards the supplies. Mon El had now reactivated these sensors. It meant that if anyone were to so much as step in the large expanse of a circle with the Cornucopia at the centre and the tribute platforms along the circumference, then they would be blasted off the ground.

He disconnected the wire from the device and shut the entire thing down, before walking inside the Cornucopia, ensuring that he had all the supplies that he needed before he left the place. Just then, the sound of a twig crushing under a foot came from outside. It quickly caused him to nock an arrow in the bow and point it towards the exit of the Cornucopia. Slowly, he moved towards the opening, keeping his eyes peeled for any movement. In the back of his mind, he hoped to see the one tribute that he was expecting would be here.

It was someone else.

“I see you’ve been busy,” Jeff remarked, referring to all the wires.

Mon El calmly stepped out of the Cornucopia. Keeping the arrow pointed at the tribute from 4, he calmly replied, “I see you haven’t. I thought you were supposed to be hunting down the enemy,” he said in a near-mock tone.

“I think I just found him,” Jeff said before suddenly, throwing the spear in his hand towards Mon El’s chest.

Mon El moved at the last second, causing the spear to hit the ground behind him. Before he could regain his balance and face his opponent again, Jeff was already on the move as he ran towards Mon El and punched him in the chest.

The punch hurt both fighters. Unknowingly, Jeff had aimed a punch directly where the green crystal from Mon El’s necklace was situated. The delicate yet sharp frame of the crystal pierced Jeff’s wrist, causing him to jerk back in pain.

Mon El had a similar reaction. Only, instead of his wrist, the pain originated from his chest and radiated all throughout his body. A wave of weakness washed across him, as he cried out in pain and dropped his weapons. The punch had pushed the pendant to his chest, exposing the small piece of lead to his bare skin. All of a sudden, Mon El found it difficult to breathe. His vision blurred a little, while his hearing became muffled. He took in sharp breaths, blinking in order to clear his vision. But it didn’t seem to work. Not wanting to collapse by the sudden weakness that had taken over, he leaned by the walls of the Cornucopia, only to flinch away at the slightest contact with the walls.

Lead.

The walls of the structure consisted mainly of his one weakness on Terra. The amount of lead around him suddenly overwhelmed him, as he fell to his knees, gasping for air. He turned to the other side, hoping to get as far away from the lead-walls of the Cornucopia as he could. He had managed to take two steps when all of a sudden, Jeff blocked his path. Mon El deflected a punch aimed towards his chest again and making use of his opponent’s weakness, twisted the hand that he had shot a day ago. Jeff grunted in pain and backed a little. Then, without warning, he rushed towards Mon El and tackled him to the ground. Mon El struggled to fight. He closed his eyes as he expected another punch.

Only, it never came.

Instead, the shriek of his opponent caused him to open his eyes and see him thrown off all the way to the other side of the Cornucopia. He then looked up to see the tribute from 12 standing in front of him.

“You okay? You look like crap,” James remarked, as he quickly moved to stand beside him and pulled him so they could remain hidden from Jeff’s line of view.

Mon El huffed at the statement. Still a little short of breath, but very slowly regaining some of his senses, he replied, “Having a… reaction... to the lead.” He gestured towards the walls. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head and tried to figure out why Jeff had suddenly fallen silent. He figured out that he was probably restocking; taking deadlier weapons from the Cornucopia.

“She was right.”

James’s statement caused Mon El to turn and look at him. He realized that James was busy studying the fence of wires that connected every tribute platform.

“She was right to trust you.” James continued, before pausing for a long second. Then, as though preparing himself for what was to come next, he took in a deep breath and said, “The battles you lose, right?”

Mon El looked at him with knitted brows. But before he could say anything, he spoke again.

“Keep her safe.”

In a split second, Mon El realized what he meant. In a split second, James jumped out from hiding and grabbing the spear that lay in front of him, aimed and threw it at his opponent, the tribute from 4. In a split second, Jeff reciprocated, and threw a spear of his own.

Before Mon El could fully comprehend, he turned to see a spear lodged in James’s chest. Jeff also had a similar weapon prodding out from his own body. Mon El stared at the weapon. He found it even more difficult to breathe than before, as shock took over his mind.

The sound of the death-canon, that struck twice, tore through the silent atmosphere, and pulled Mon El out of shock and into reality. (The sound of the death canon striking twice again, caused him to jump to action.)

* * *

Grace wasn’t surprised by the first death-canon; she had expected it. It was the closely followed second one that had surprised her. 

She paused and looked back towards the direction that she had come from. Seeing nothing but trees, she continued towards the completion of her mission. She had already reached the South quadrant. Now, all she needed to do was find even the slightest of movement and fight. 

Said movement appeared in the form of a shrub moving slightly, a few metres in front of her. 

The Career from 1 had no time to comprehend who the second death must have been. Because the moment she spotted the shrubs moving, her eyes caught a glimpse of what looked like a camouflaged tent. The fluorescent walls of the tent were covered in mud and leaves, making it almost impossible to see. What gave it away, was the neatly folded sleeping bag that spilled out of the opening of the tent. She readied herself for whatever was to come next and positioned her spear in the direction of the disturbance. Then, slowly, steadily, she moved across the expanse that separated her from the movement. The shrub moved again. It caused Grace to misstep on a dry leaf that crushed under the pressure of her foot.

A dead silence extended across the surroundings as the shrub stopped moving abruptly. Grace remained still, frozen to the spot. She paused for a second. Then another. Finally realizing that the moment to fight was here, she readied her spear. It was now or never. Without warning, she pulled her spear-arm back and jumped out.

At the very last second, however, she stopped, as she saw Julia, standing in front of her, mirroring her intent to attack with a bow and arrow in hand, instead of a spear.

Both Careers stopped and for several seconds stared at each other. Then, as though someone had flipped a switch, Julia turned and scanned the surrounding area. She kept the bow and arrow extended, ready to shoot on the slightest provocation. Besides her, Grace mirrored her actions.

“Where is she?” Grace asked, frustratedly. “She should be here. There’s a tent right over there,” she said pointing to the camouflaged set-up.

Julia looked just as worried. She focussed on trying to find the tribute that they were so desperately looking for, when all of a sudden, her eyes spotted something much more unusual. She stared in the direction opposite to the tent. There, she found a clear view of the Cornucopia.

Along with the Career from District 2 dragging two bodies to the side.

Everything suddenly fell into place, as she recognized one of the bodies to be that of the male tribute from her own District. “He tricked us,” she said to no one in particular, but causing Grace to turn and look at her. “That son of a bitch tricked us!” she exclaimed.

Grace followed Julia’s line of sight and tried to understand what she was talking about. In a moment’s delay she understood.

“The girl was never going to be here,” Julia continued frustratedly, as she lowered her weapon. “This was all about getting us away from the damn Cornucopia! He must be setting a trap or something.”

“We need to head there before he disappears,” Grace said, hurryingly. “We gotta stop him-”

Before she could finish her sentence, a sudden, blunt force struck her from behind and caused her to fall down. It took Julia a second to realize what had just happened. The second’s delay would cost her, as she barely noticed the female tribute from 12, swinging from a tree branch above the tent, before she threw a small knife at the Career, breaking the string of her bow.

Kara landed on her feet and turned to face both the Careers. Grace had fallen but still had a death-grip on the spear. Julia was threw away the useless bow and charged at her attacker. She tried to grab Kara by the neck, but before she could do so, Kara caught a hold of both her wrists and forcefully pulled them apart. She then used her legs to kick Julia in the back of her knees, causing the Career to grunt in pain and fall down.

As Julia tried to recover from the blow, Kara moved away, just in time as Grace charged at her with the spear pointedly aimed at her. The tip of the blade caught Kara’s left sleeve, pressing the tip of her hope-pin to press against her arm. She suddenly felt a wave of vulnerability wash through her as she stumbled a little and moved away from her attacker. Grace, thinking that she was gaining an upper hand in the fight now, attacked with sheer force and tried to strike her opponent down. She was fast.

But Kara was faster.

She held the spear before it could hit her and using every bit of her remaining strength, forcefully pushed it away. The sudden pressure twisted Grace’s hand as she shrieked in pain and let go of the weapon. Finally gaining control of the spear, Kara snatched it away and threw it as far as she could, away from the both of them. As Grace was still recovering from the sudden strain on her wrist, Kara pounced on her. She extended her arm and pulling her in, she secured her in place. Stuck in place, Grace struggled to free herself from the chokehold that Kara had locked her in. She waved her arms madly, as she tried to push Kara away, who was standing directly behind her. All of a sudden, the struggle stopped.

Kara noticed the shocked expressions on Grace’s face, as she noticed the spear lodged in her chest. The Career barely saw her attacker, as her eyes rolled back and she fell, her weight becoming more and more prominent on her. In front of them, Julia stood with her arm extended. She observed the look that passed on Kara’s face when she saw Grace dying in her arms. It told her some things about the so-called unbeatable female tribute from District 12. 

“Can’t see it, can you?” Julia asked. “It’s difficult to see death from so close isn’t it?” When Kara did not respond in any way, she continued prodding. “I can see it in your eyes,” she smirked. “You can’t kill anyone, you don’t have it in you. You’ve never killed before, have you?”

The Career underestimated her speed however, for before she knew it, Kara quickly rushed towards her, placing Grace in front of her and using her as a shield. Just as Julia tried to remove a small knife from her pocket, Kara slapped it away. She rushed to Julia’s side and grabbed her from behind. Forcing her in a strong chokehold, she trapped her neck in her hands. Julia struggled, as she tried to free herself from her death-grip. 

“You’re not gonna do it,” Julia heaved, losing confidence in her own statement by the second.

That was when, a silent Kara, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke up. “You’re wrong,” she said dangerously stoically, but with a tinge of regret. “I have killed before.”

Before Julia could realize her miscalculation, the tribute from 12 twisted and snapped her neck in place.

The death-canon struck instantly.

As Kara let go, Julia’s lifeless form slumped to the ground. Kara tried her level best to remain calm and tried to focus solely on her breathing. Her powers and heightened senses were returning. The last thing that she needed was to be overwhelmed by her heightened capabilities. Not when her mind was already preparing to battle what seemed like the biggest turmoil that she had ever come across. She didn’t even notice as she fell to her knees and kept staring at the ground. In that moment, she didn’t want to feel. She didn’t want to comprehend reality. In that moment, all she could understand was pain; of a kind that she had never felt in all her time on Terra. She was lost, as her breaths shaky.

Then, all of a sudden, everything came crashing down. Without warning, tears began flowing down her cheeks and she found herself as helpless as she once was when Rue had died right in front of her. Except now, it was somehow worse. Because now, along with the guilt of witnessing a death, lurking in the back of her mind was deliberation. She hadn’t just witnessed the death of two humans. She hadn’t even been a part of it by accident. Even in all the turmoil that raged on, one thing stood out in her mind.

She had caused the deaths.

She had fought with the intent to kill. When the two tributes had attacked she hadn’t just defended. She had fought back with a resilience that could cause only one outcome: death. And she knew it all along. She tried for the longest time to reel in the tears. But after numerous failed attempts, she simply gave up. With trembling breaths and through teary eyes, she looked at both her hands. They were shaking violently. They had caused death. They no longer felt normal; nothing did. A distant part of her wondered if things would ever go back to normal. (Another part of her already knew the answer.)

Just then, a rustling in the bushes caused her to look up, with panic in her eyes. Her mind was instantly filled with alarm, as she considered the possibility of claiming another innocent life. No. She couldn’t. She hoped that whoever had found her, would fight back. She hoped they would bring a swift end to everything. With that, she prepared to face the threat. However,

Mon El emerged from the bushes with an arrow nocked in the bow and pointed towards the direction where he had heard some sound. As soon as he saw Kara however, he suddenly realized what had happened. Instantly, he dropped the bow and arrow and rushed towards her. Kara had a peculiar look in her eyes. One that resembled a mix of pain but also grateful. Relieved to see the man in front of her alive. Especially after everything that they had done in only the past forty eight hours.

But none of that mattered for now. They both realized that they were both too tired, too drained to consider repercussions and consequences. For now, they simply embraced. They tried as best as they could to forget the deaths that they had each witnessed; the deaths that they had caused. 

Mon El knew it wasn’t over; far from it. But he didn’t bring it up. He simply held Kara and tried to comfort her, as tears flowed freely from her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWZA! Pretty long chapter and quite a few developments story-wise.  
1\. I apologize for the day's delay. It just took quite a while to write this and college was super busy last week.  
2\. Mon El is a smart man. Kara is a strong woman (emotionally and physically!). James is a brave man.  
3\. Seneca is on his way to the Capitol!!!!!  
4\. Four deaths in one chapter... yeah, sorry!
> 
> In other exciting news,  
1\. Kai Parker's death did not happen, okay? In fact, I would go as far as saying that that episode of Legacies did not happen (except for the goofy Kai scenes. We need those!)  
2\. Chris Wood stans, let me hear you say, 'WE STAN THE BEST GUY EVER!' This guy is winning the year and I am here for it!  
3\. MON EL IS COMING BACK! This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill!!! Yeah, sure it might be just for like a lousy second or so, buy hey... breadcrumbs!  
4\. I need Chris and Melissa for the live action Tangled movie. MAKE IT HAPPEN UNIVERSE!!!
> 
> Next chapter is probably the second-last one...!  
Until next time!


	27. Tenuous Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the victor..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is this possible?! That can't be the right word-count.... right?!

“It’s over now.”

Mon El managed in a steady voice, as he tried to calm a trembling Kara. A distant voice in his head raised some concerns regarding his statement, but he ignored it. Partly, because he found that at that moment, he simply didn’t care about anything else. And partly, because at that very moment only one thing mattered.

Kara tried to reign in the tears. She tried her level best to stop crying. A voice in her head constantly warned her that she was currently in the arena. Display of emotions of any kind was considered a weakness here. Everything she did was for all of Panem to see. But even then, she found that she just didn’t have it in her to maintain a facade anymore. The arena had already tested her in more ways than she could ever have fathomed. Everything that had happened since the reaping had hurt her; damaged her. But the events from mere moments ago somehow managed to be worse. They stood out in the sense that unlike every other happening that she had experienced in the arena, this one didn’t just hurt her. It broke her. It caused something deep inside her to change permanently. It made her realize, darkly, that she would never be able to revert things back to the way they were. She would never be able to go back to being her former self. Because along with the female Careers from 1 and 4, her former self had died too.

She had killed them all.

Waves of despair passed through her with every breath, as she simply held on to Mon El, like an anchor keeping her steady in the storm that raged on. A distant part of her mind realized that given everything, she was glad to have the alien from 2 by her side. It was one of the rare moments that she was actually relieved that she wasn’t in 12. As much as she loved and had missed her Earth-mother, every moment since the reaping, she knew that if she were to embrace her with even three-fourths of her current intensity, she would crack her ribs or injure her in some other equally terrible way. But with Mon El, an alien with powers quite similar to hers, she knew that he could stay unharmed. He was possibly the only being on Terra who could comfort her after what she had done. Give her even the slightest bit of hope that she could hold on to. 

Because Mon El understood exactly what she was going through. Killing someone, claiming a person’s life, (a  _ human’s _ life) was already as difficult as things could be. But when one added being an invincible alien to the mix, it made things downright unbearable. Regret gnawed at her while guilt filled her up entirely. She wanted to scream. She wanted all of it to just be a horrible dream. One that she could wake up from. A bitter part of her reminded her how she had wanted something similar decades ago. She had wanted to wake up from the nightmare that was the death and destruction of her world. Back then, her wish wasn’t granted. Even now, it wouldn’t be.

No matter how hard she tried, no matter her resolve and determination to make things right, she would never be able to change what had happened; what she had done. She could never go back in time and wake the dead. Her trembling hands were just a reminder of her former self; what she used to be. What she no longer was. They were an indication of what she had now become. 

‘A  _ murderer’  _ a voice in her head venomously supplied. It was the same voice that had always tried to remind her of her Kryptonian principles and values. The voice that she had suppressed for the past sixteen years that she had been on Terra. But now, she realized that the voice was louder than ever before. There was nothing she could do to restrain it now. There was nothing she could do at all now. She embraced Mon El a little tighter.

The Career reciprocated with an equal intensity. He kept repeating words of comfort, hoping that they would ease her pain somewhat, but knowing all well that they were spoken but in vain. He knew far too well how overwhelming it was to kill. He was familiar with the guilt, the pain, the overpowering voices in the head that made it so difficult to breathe. But worst of all, he knew that even though he was there by her side, there was little he could do to help her fight the battle that raged on in her mind. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t ease her guilt; couldn’t truly be there for her. In that moment, he realized bitterly that all he was in the current situation, was a spectator. Someone who could only watch as the girl in front of him, his friend who had helped him through so much ever since they had met, a fellow alien, suffered and endured the regret of killing a human.

This was exactly what he had wanted to prevent.

* * *

Had things gone according to his and Kara’s plan, the poor girl from 12 would never have needed to participate in a fight for survival against the female Careers from 1 and 4. In fact, she would never have had to reveal herself to the Careers at all. Because as per the plan, she was merely a distraction. It was her job to keep every Career away from the Cornucopia long enough for Mon El to set the motion-sensor enabled explosives in place.

“This will change things within the pack,” he had told her. It was a day after Rue had died. After Kara’s intense outburst the night before, she had fallen asleep, tired, too exhausted to consider the consequences of the death of the girl from 11. But Mon El had stayed up through the night, for his training had prevented him from acting otherwise. He had known that the knowledge that only two non-Careers were remaining now would surely change the dynamics in the Cornucopia. It would cause a change in strategies. He had therefore concluded that before the rest of the Careers were to become more aggressive with their approach, he needed to have a plan of action of his own. One that could save them.

One that could save her.

He wasn’t entirely sure when, but somewhere along all the time that he had spent in the arena, he had realized that while his own future in the Games could remain unclear, he couldn’t, under any circumstance, put her chance at victory in danger. He had realized that after everything that the two of them had been through not only in the arena but also on Terra, it had unlocked a determination in him so strong that he needed to ensure that even if both aliens couldn’t walk out of this hell alive, at least one of them had a chance at survival. At least one of them deserved to go home.

Home.

He had quickly pushed away the melancholic thoughts and focussed on reality. There was a lot to be done, even after everything that had happened, if he wanted to stay one step ahead of the Careers. He had looked at Kara’s sleeping eyes. She had looked calm; peaceful. As much as he had hated to spring everything on her, he knew that it was something he had to do. However, knowing the stubborn Kryptonian that he had rightly recognized her to be, he had also known that she would be strong enough to pull through.

As a result, the next morning, Mon El had told her everything. He had shared with her every bit of information that he had regarding the Careers: their thinking, their strategies, all of it. While she had remained silent throughout everything, an almost distant look adorning her face, she hadn’t indicated in any way that she wasn’t paying attention.

“Grace and Trevor are hotheads,” Mon El had hurried through his description of the pack. “Jeff and Julia are thinkers, but in the right situation, they can be tricked. And then there’s Sam.” He had paused a moment, as though thinking of the exact words that could truly describe the female tribute from his own District. “She’s ruthless. I’ve sparred with her twice back in 2 and both times I almost had to make use of my powers to walk out of the fight unharmed. She’s going to be the most difficult to trick.” Pausing yet again, he had inhaled deeply before turning to Kara. “Fortunately for us, she’s already under the wrong impression about things.” Taking note of the smallest signs of confusion on her still distant face, he had explained the terms of his ‘alliance’ with Sam. He had described how everything had begun.

“When I was patrolling, I had seen you and…” he had stopped before he could say any further. “I had seen you near the tracker-jacker cave. I guess, intuitively, I just thought- was worried that you might go there. I had to warn you. So, to make it easier to leave, I told Sam that I needed her help. I asked her to create a diversion on the opposite quadrant, so that I could leave and form a ‘fake alliance’ with the tribute from 12.” He could see that she was slightly taken aback by the revelation. “She thinks that I’m collecting information about the only other tribute who scored an eleven in her assessment. So that when the time comes, we can kill her.”

He had half expected Kara to react adversely. To either run away or attack him in self-defense. Anyone would have done the same. He would have done the same. But her reaction had simply reminded him that Kara truly was unlike any other being that he had seen. Because she had said, speaking for the first time since the previous night, “You did what you had to. She thinks you’re still on their side.” Just like that, she had dismissed every thought of doubting him, and had reassured him that he had her complete trust.

It had only made him more determined to make his plan work.

“She does,” he had responded. “And since she’s the leader, it would be easy enough to make the rest of them believe that I’m on their side. So now, all that we need to do is set up a trap. One that could take them all out, in a way that no one would see it coming.” He had paused as a sudden realization had struck him. “The Cornucopia,” he had said, more to himself than to Kara. Turning to her with wide eyes, he had said, “That place is a freaking mine-field. The entire area around the Cornucopia is laced with explosives. The ones that they use to ensure that none of the tributes get off their platforms before the countdown-clock goes off.”

“But they’re disarmed the moment the Games begin,” Kara had voiced her worries.

“Doesn’t mean they can’t be re-armed,” Mon El had replied. “If I can get the pack to leave the Cornucopia for some time, I can get the motion sensors to work. All we need is a distraction of some sort.”

“I’ll do it,” Kara had suddenly said, causing Mon El to face her. He had noticed the distant look on her face again. It had worried him. “I’ll distract them until you can set the trap,” she had continued. “Just tell them that you know exactly where I will be and that they can all reach there to take me down.”

After a long moment had passed, Mon El had simply replied, “I’m not gonna do that.” Before she had had the chance to protest, he had quickly continued, “It’s way too dangerous.”

This had pushed the distant look away from her face and had given way to a familiar fire that he had been used to seeing on her face. “You don’t have another way to go back there,” she had said. “You’ve told Sam that you’re collecting information about me. She won’t believe you if you go back without results.”

“I’m not letting you take on four Careers,” he had said emphatically.

“You don’t have another choice!” she had exclaimed hotly. At the time, Kara had thought he had been unnecessarily worried about her ability to fight. (Later however, she would realize that he had never been worried about the fight, but rather her ability to deal with the aftermath of the fight.)

As much as Mon El had hated the idea, he had known that Kara was right. The Cornucopia was the only place that could bring all Careers together. If he needed to set a trap there without arousing information, he needed to make them believe that he had valuable information for them. It was the only way that his plan could work.

Sighing frustratedly, he had finally responded. “Fine. But,” he had added quickly, “you do not show yourself.” Before Kara could have protested yet again, he had quickly continued. “They just need to think that you’re in a particular place. By the time they reach far enough from the Cornucopia, and figure out that something’s wrong, the trap will already be set. You do not need to fight.” he concluded, stressing on his final words. 

“You want me to hide?!”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do.” he had responded, raising his voice just a little. Only when he had been sure that Kara was fully on board with everything, he had figured out and explained the key details of the plan to her. 

By the end however, his nose had begun bleeding while a wave of weakness had washed over him.

“Why are you projecting?!” Kara had asked incredulously, a worried look in her eyes.

Wiping the blood from under his nose, he had explained, “Because of them,” pointing towards the sky, where the invisible dome of the arena was. “You saw what they did.” Although he didn’t specify, he could tell from the look on Kara’s face that she understood exactly what he was talking about. “If they see us forming a plan to actually get rid of the Careers, they’re gonna do something to… mess it up. We can’t afford to have unknown factors.”

The memory of the events from the day before had flooded Kara’s mind with despair. She had instantly recalled how the gamemakers had tricked her into killing the girl that she had sworn to protect. How they had made her do something that she could never have imagined. Before the emotions could overwhelm her again however, she had instantly pushed it all away. That had quickly brought back the distant look on her face, as she had reverted to her stoic form. The next she would speak to Mon El, would be an entire day later.

That night, James had shown up.

His sudden appearance was a blow to Kara, for it had made her realize, incredulously, that she had almost forgotten about her fellow tribute. The sudden, shocking death of Rue had made her forget about the one person that she had sworn to protect first, before she had even entered the arena.

His arrival had put the plan on hold. At least for half a day. Because both Kara and Mon El had quickly realized they needed to work James into the plan. The only way to ensure that he could be as safe as possible, was by keeping him as away from everything as possible. They had realized that they needed time to figure out a new plan now.

Unfortunately, time was a luxury that they could not afford.

After the sudden ambush from the Careers, both Mon El and Kara had realized that they could no longer remain safe and do nothing. The time to act was upon them, and there was little they could do, but fight back.

“You sure about this?” she had asked him worriedly, trying to indicate to him her concerns about not just the plan, but also his safety, which would be on the line, as soon as he would reach the Cornucopia.

To that, he had reassured her with hollow words. “I’ll be okay,” he had said, worrying about her safety more than his own.

Hours later, the plan had been underway. Things had progressed somewhat smoothly.

Until it had all gone wrong.

* * *

‘What went wrong?’ George, Seneca’s assistant thought to himself as he observed an annoyed Seneca pace across his personal quarters for what must have been the twentieth time. Ever since his boss had returned from what was supposed to be a relaxing walk across the woods, he had been incredibly jumpy. He had rushed in from the intense rains and had gone straight towards his personal holo, all but barking at the driver to ‘get this piece of shit train moving already!’

Even now, as they were moving at such high speeds towards the Capitol, he still seemed extremely worried about something. After a few more minutes, the reason revealed itself.

“Why can’t I use the freaking comms?!’ he seethed, growling at George. 

George, quite familiar with his boss’s temper, replied calmly. “It’s the weather sir. Clouds and rain are interfering with the communications array.”

The answer, it seemed was satisfactory enough, but did little to ease the head-gamemaker’s frustration. He paced a few more times before finally settling down in the chair next to the large windows of the train. Looking into the distance, he saw nothing but rain, as grey clouds filled the sky above. Finally after a few stretched minutes, he sighed, as though giving up on whatever it was that he was thinking of. 

“We better reach on time. Or a bunch of gamemakers are gonna lose their jobs today.” Seneca suddenly said, without any preamble whatsoever.

As confused as his assistant was, George knew better than to ask him for a clarification, as he acknowledged the statement with a small nod and calmly returned to working on his own holo.

* * *

She was somewhat better now.

The crying had reduced to mere sniffles. Majorly because she felt as though she simply didn’t have tears left in her anymore. The day had been extremely taxing on both aliens that were in the arena. One of them had witnessed the death of a man that he was supposed to protect, while the other had caused the deaths of two tributes. One had hesitated a little while the other had fought with intent to kill. Both battled guilt of similar intensities. Both were too tired; too miserable.

Both knew that how they felt on the inside simply didn’t matter to the world outside.

Panem didn’t care that an alien who had once lost her entire world and witnessed the deaths of her near and dear ones, was now causing more deaths and killing to survive. The people outside had no sympathy for the Daxamite who was saved by the death of a human. All Panem wanted was for  _ the show to go on. _

And on it went. Not because their pain finally eased a little. But rather, because they were harshly made to realize exactly where they were. Once Kara’s sobs had died down a little, the sound had been replaced by a tense silence. The quiet lasted only for a few seconds however, as instantly, the terrible howl of an animal from somewhere in the woods, echoed all across the arena. It was what finally pulled the two aliens back to reality, and made them realize that even after everything they had done, everything they had endured, the Games were still not over. Not yet.

Looking around at the dead bodies around them, they realized that all Careers were accounted for.

All but one.

Samantha had never reached the spot where Kara was supposed to be. She had never been one of the attackers that Kara had fought. It made them realize that since Sam was paired up with Grace, the female tribute who had witnessed Sam kill a tribute from her own District, that she had probably left Sam for dead and had proceeded to reach Kara’s hiding spot on her own. Whatever it was, Mon El knew that it must have been quite the challenge, if it had managed to keep someone as tough as Sam at bay. Not wanting to face her, he had selfishly hoped that it would be enough to overwhelm the Career from his own District.

The distinct lack of the death-canon had told them otherwise.

That was why they were slowly moving towards the East quadrant, keeping their eyes peeled and their hearing tuned for even the slightest of movement. Mon El led them through the thick forest while Kara brought up the back. Neither of them had said a word. They quietly made their way through the bushes, Mon El with a bow and arrow poised and ready to fire.

The strong stench of blood was what hit them first.

It caused them to pause and remain rooted to their spots for a while, until Mon El finally took a step towards the horrible smell. 

A few more steps brought him face-to-face with the most horrendous sight that he had ever seen.

Two mutts, as large as he had ever seen them in the arena, lay obliterated on the ground in front of him. Their corpses were covered in blood while long scratches ran down their scaly legs. One of them was decapitated, as its head lay a few feet away from its body, while the others head was facing the wrong direction from its body.

It was easy enough to tell that the howl, from moments ago, belonged to these animals.

Transfixed by the visual, Kara took support of a nearby trunk, while Mon El slowly lowered his bow and arrow without really realizing it. They had each seen their fair share of animal deaths. Evene caused some of them, themselves. But never had the two ever seen something so aggressive; so brutal.

“I think they were siblings.”

A voice coming from behind them, instantly pulled Kara and Mon El into action, as he turned and pointed an arrow towards the intruder, while she readied herself in a defensive stance. 

Looking at Sam, proved to be more challenging that facing the dead mutts. Not unlike the beasts, she too was covered in blood, some of it her own. She too had scars on her arms and a gaping wound on her shoulder. There was one major difference between her appearance and that of the mutts.

She was still alive.

“This one,” she said as calmly as before, pointing towards the decapitated mutt, “was angry that I was attacking its brother.” She slowly walked over to the other side, pointedly ignoring the weapon trained at her. “So I had to kill them both,” she finished, staring at Mon El, maliciously.

For a stretched moment, neither of them said a word. Then, just like before, Sam walked slowly towards Mon El and continued, “I heard two death-canons when I was tackling them,” she said gesturing towards the dead beasts. “And I heard two more after that. So that means they’re all dead, huh?” 

She was now standing an inch from the arrow-head, as she continued to look at Mon El directly in the eyes. “Grace betrayed me, and she died.” she said in a low, chilling voice. “That’s what happens to the people who try to betray me, Mon El,” she said, venom spilling from her voice, as she called his name. For an extended second, both Careers from 2 looked at each other. Then, just like that, Sam instantly grabbed the bow with one hand and the arrow with another and before Mon El knew it, threw the weapon away. Mon El, surprised, but only slightly by the sudden ambush, quickly tried to deflect a punch aimed at his jaw. But before he realized it, a second punch made its way towards his chest and hit him with sudden brute force, causing him to stumble back.

Behind him, Kara instantly started towards Mon El, but before she could take even a step, a mutt appeared from nowhere and pinned her by the tree trunk behind her. She quickly reacted as she turned her focus on the giant beast and began to fight.

Mon El, in stark contrast remained still as he held a hand to his chest. The punch had missed the necklace with a lead tip, by a few centimetres. His body did not have direct contact with the lead at all. 

And yet, he had still felt the punch.

Knitting his eyebrows in confusion, he tried to make sense of what had just happened. How was it possible. After the fight near the Cornucopia, his powers had returned already. He was at near maximum strength. Then how was it possible that he could actually feel an ordinary punch. How was he affected by it?

Unless.

“Guess you’re strong, huh?” Sam said. In that moment, her cryptic words cleared all his doubts. The words, on their own, didn’t amount to much. But the way she had said them, was what made Mon El realize something very important about the female tribute from his own District.

Samantha Arias was not a human.

She was a being, quite like himself, who possessed strength beyond compare to every Terran. She was strong; powerful. In that moment, Mon El found that he was suddenly frozen in his spot. Because in that moment, Sam was suddenly more lethal than he had previously thought.

“May the best fighter win.”

That was the only warning she gave him, before she charged towards him at full speed and pushed him, causing him to fall on his back. At the very last second, Mon El suddenly snapped out of stillness and into action, as he dodged the punch aimed at his face and using his arm, deflected Sam’s wrist. Sam however, had seemingly expected this. Once he was distracted enough with the initial dodgine the of the punch, she quickly moved her focus to his legs. She grabbed one foot firmly and using her inhumane strength, twisted it from the knee.

Mon El screamed.

He desperately tried to pull his leg away from her.When she didn’t budge, he used his other leg to kick her feet and caused her to stumble and fall back on the ground. Mon El grunted in pain as he tried to get up from the ground and stumbled a little. Sam took advantage of this and quickly aimed a kick at Mon El’s feet. Right as he was falling, Mon El firmly held Sam’s hands, causing her to stumble and fall along with him. Both Careers quickly hurried to get up. Mon El noticed the bow and arrow that Sam had pushed away from his hands lying a few feet away. Acting on instinct, he rushed to grab the weapon. But before he could aim it at her, Sam rushed forwards and pounced on him. Mon El was standing with his back to the slope. Owing to the sudden momentum as Sam jumped on him, it caused both of them to roll down the suddenly steep slopes of the forest. Neither of them were sure how they were suddenly falling down such a steep forest slope that wasn’t there moments ago, cutting through branches and leaves that lay crushed in their path. 

They finally stopped when they reached the edges of the forest, a few feet from a tribute platform. It took both Sam and Mon El some time to regain their senses, as he realized that he was still grabbing the bow and arrow firmly, while Sam, who had rolled and landed a few feet from him, was seemingly in pain, as she clutched her arm tightly. 

Mon El was the first to get back on his feet. He huffed and wheezed a little as he looked around him and assessed his surroundings. As he realized where they were, he worriedly looked up towards the thick forest cover, towards the direction where he had been seconds ago. Clutching his injured knee, he stared up the slope, hoping to see some movement. Kara was battling a mutt already. But neither her, not Mon El had noticed a second one making its way towards her from behind. Unable to look away, he stared in the direction for a long moment, fearing the worst, when suddenly,

Hands harshly grabbed him from behind and locked him in a chokehold. Mon El was clutching his knee with one hand, and tried to pry the arms away with his other hand, but found that he couldn’t, because as soon as he brought his other arm up, Sam grabbed his wrist and twisted it, locking it behind his back. Mon El breathed sharply. Ignoring the pain that had flared up in his knee, he took the hand that was supporting it and brought it up to his pocket, sneakily removing a small knife.

His stealth, as it turned out was but in vain, for Sam quickly released him from the chokehold for a second, using that arms to grab his wrist that clutched the knife. Using all her strength, she brought the knife up and pressed it dangerously close to his neck. The blade touched the tracker-jacker scar on his neck, causing a drop of blood to spill, as Mon El exhaled in pain.

“I hope the betrayal was worth it,” she seethed as she stood directly behind him and talked in a dangerously low voice near his ears. “Because once you’re gone, I’ll kill her too. Quite easily.”

“You can’t,” Mon El wheezed, ignoring the sharp pain in his neck. “She’s a lot stronger than you think.” He had expected Sam to be somewhat taken aback by the statement, He had hoped she would hesitate a little, giving him enough time to move away.

Instead, Sam panting a little, but remained calm and smiled a little. “Oh I know she’s strong,” she continued in a low growl. “But tell me, between her and me, who do you think they’re gonna let win?” she gestured towards the sky. “The Career from a notable District, or a fluke from the outskirts? Who makes most sense as a victor?”

In that moment, Mon El finally understood. The gamemakers would never let Kara survive. Not only because she was from District 12, but also because of everything that she had done since she had come in the arena. She was strong and far too rebellious for the Capitol’s liking. It suddenly made sense as he understood that the gamemakers had been targeting Kara from quite a long time. Right from Rue, to the mutts that she was facing at the moment, he realized that they must’ve wanted her dead from quite some time. Only one thing was keeping her alive.

Her alliance with him.

The alliance between 2 and 12 was an unexpected one. It was something no one must’ve seen coming. Once he had tricked them into believing that he was always on the Career’s side, they had kept her alive long enough to see the rest of the Careers hunt her down. However, when even that had failed them, things must've changed entirely. Now, she had nothing working in her favour. Now Kara was of no use to the gamemakers or the Game itself. Now she was merely dead weight. 

He inhaled sharply as he realized. They were going to kill her.

“Not all battles are won with strength,” Sam continued. “Some require perception and wit. You taught me that.”

Once Mon El was dead, the gamemakers would manipulate the entire arena with the goal of letting the female Career from 2 win the fight. Even though they had announced that they would allow for two victors to survive, he knew that it would never actually happen, for they needed a victor. One winner.

No. He couldn’t die.

Blood coursed through his body, as he suddenly found the strength that he required for his next move. He knew that the element of surprise was extremely crucial ,and so, acted without wasting a single second. Without warning, he grabbed Sam’s wrist, the one holding the knife to his neck and using all of his strength, pried it away from himself and twisted it. He turned on the spot, and before she knew it, Sam was now in the front, while Mon El stood behind her, trapping one arm behind her back while forcing the one holding the knife, near her stomach. She tried to resist, but in vain, as Mon El instantly brought the knife to her and stabbed her with it.

A sharp intake of breath was the only indication she gave of registering the pain, before she fell to her knees, breathing becoming more and more difficult by the second.

Just like that, it was over.

Mon El breathed rapidly, as he looked at Sam and for the first time, saw her in actual pain. He noticed fear in the eyes that he had previously thought to be incapable of harbouring an emotion as this one. Suddenly, everything around him stilled, as he found himself focusing his enhanced hearing on her heartbeat.

Her weakening heartbeat.

He found it hard to breathe himself, as he looked at the person, the alien in front of him. Till now, he had been fighting on instinct. Sam had attacked him when he had been stilled by a thought. Now, as he looked at the knife in her stomach, he suddenly recalled what that unfinished thought was.

Could he really kill an alien?

Was he actually capable of killing a foreign being not unlike himself. Killing itself was something that Mon El or any other alien couldn’t quite do on a foregn planet, without encountering the guilt that came guaranteed with it. But to kill an alien. To end the life of another being who was probably stuck in a situation much similar to his. Who had battled and fought hard to survive this long on Terra, just like him. Could he really bring an end to a life similar to his own?

A strong voice in his head sharply said ‘no,’ and instantly caused him to kneel besides an injured Sam. He proceeded to hold the knife that was prodding out of her, but before he could pull it out, Sam pushed his hands away. “Don’t-” she breathed.

“I leave it in, you die,” Mon El responded.

“You take it out, I die… instantly.” Her words caused him to knit his brows. But before she could clarify, she looked up, a spark of fear running through her eyes.

Mon El quickly understood. “Hey, it’s okay. They can’t see us, look,” he said, before his eyes glowed in front of her, assuring her that the people outside couldn’t see what was happening in the arena. “I’m projecting an AR dome.”

Satisfied only after his own display of unusually glowing eyes, she continued, weakly, “The knife struck just below the heart,” she said, gesturing to the weapon. “There’s a device there that… turns my appearance. Turns my blood red. Makes me look… more human. My mother… she designed it and had it placed below my heart. I think the knife struck it, but the blade’s keeping the set-up steady. Once you remove it… it’ll stop working.” With terrified eyes, she gestured at the sky. “They’ll see who I am.”

Mon El was lost for words. He couldn’t believe that something as unexpected, as harsh was happening in front of him. He needed time to process everything, but time wasn’t something that they had a lot of in the arena.

“Let me help,” he quickly said. “I can try and get you out of here.”

It was a lie. Sam understood that.

“Thanks for the offer,” she said with a sad smile, “But don’t you think that as an alien growing up on this horrible planet, that if there were a way out of the arena, I would’ve figured it out by now?” She was right. Growing up, Mon El had tried to work out escape plans for most of his childhood. None of them worked, however. Most of them ended up in the same, horrible, Capitol way.

“I just need your help for one thing,” Sam continued, her voice weakening a little. “The device is powered by my life. Once I’m gone, they’ll-” She gulped. “They’ll see who I really am. I can’t let that happen… I can’t let them see- “

“They won’t see. Don’t worry,” Mon El instantly assured her.

Grabbing his hand, she clutched it fiercely, desperately, as she said, “You cannot… let them.. take me.”

Mon El looked at her directly in the eyes, before he said, “I won’t.” The reassurance in his voice seemed to convince her, as she let go and relaxed a little, scrunching her eyes as the pain caught up.

“I’m sorry, for all this,” she said after a moment of quiet. “I never meant to.. Well, maybe I did mean to kill. But not in this way. I just- I come from the planet Polemos. I just wanted to stay true to my race.”

Polemos. It was a name Mon El had last heard of when he was a child back on Daxam. Known as the planet of warriors, Polemos was a planet in the Makreign galaxy, approximately a hundred light years away from Daxam. The people originating from the planet were colloquially called Regnians and were known in the neighbouring galaxies, to be among the most ruthless of fighters. As a child, Mon El had heard stories of the legendary battles that Reignians had fought and won. What set the race apart from every other, was that they never fought to achieve a higher goal. They had never conquered land in the galaxy. They never stole or looted neighbouring empires. They fought, simply to win. Simply because battle was their honour; their pride.

Looking at Sam, it suddenly made so much sense.

Her determination to fight. Her hunger for battle. Her disinterest in winning glory or ambitious perceptions about winning the Games. She had stated her reason to volunteer, countless times till now.

She was here to win. To fight.

Mon El was robbed of words, as he stared at the dying alien in front of him. Behind him, he heard as Kara reached the scene, panting. Unknowingly, Mon El had kept his ears trained for signs of distress. A part of him sighed in relief, as he realized that the girl from 12 was here. Alive. But it didn’t show. Because a major part of him was battling with the consequences of his actions.

An alien was dying in front of him. And it was all his fault.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly said. He wanted to cry, but tears were nowhere to be seen. “I’m so sorry.”

Sam shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said with a sad smile. “You gave me exactly what I needed. A warrior’s death.” She paused a little, as she looked at Kara, who was standing at a distance behind Mon El, too stunned to move. Ignoring the pain that was steadily increasing now, before she continued, “If… when you go back to 2, go to my house. Meet my mother... tell her everything that really happened.” She breathed sharply, before continuing weakly, “She’ll tell you everything about… everything-” Before she could continue any further, she groaned and clutched her stomach where the knife was prodding out of her. “I don’t have much time,” she said, quickly. “We need to get moving. What do they see right now?”

“We’re still fighting,” Mon El replied, mutely, referring to the AR dome that he was projecting.

“Then let’s end this,” she said, before shoving Mon El with her remaining strength. The boy from 2 fell back, as his hand brushed the bow and arrow that he had brought with him on his tumble down the forest slope. One look at the weapon, and he instantly understood the plan. Still not wanting to believe what he had to do next, he looked back at Sam with wide eyes.

“Keep projecting,” the injured girl said, as she struggled, but slowly got up to her feet. Then, with great control, she swiftly removed the knife from her lower chest and threw it to the side. She stood there, shaking, moments away from falling down. That was when the transformation occurred. Her skin slowly turned into a darker shade, as the blood that was flowing through her veins turned from crimson, to an inky black. The blood covering her arms and shoulders was now a mix of black and red, black her own, and red of the mutts that she had killed earlier. Slowly, the human-looking female tribute from2 transformed into her true form. All of Panem saw Sam, a normal, injured human. Mon El and Kara saw in front of them, a Reignian from Polemos.

Noticing how she was shaking, Mon El realized that she didn’t have much time. He quickly got up to his feet. Stumbling a little, he took a step forward and readied his bow and arrow, pointing it at the alien in front of him.

Sam faced her attacker bravely. She saw as the boy from 2 pulled the string of the bow taught. Before he could release it, however, she noticed the sky around her transition in colour. She gaped as the clear blue sky all around her transformed into one filled with hues of pink and purple. It was luminous, but not too bright; soft, yet mesmerizing. It resembled the view just before sunrise. A view that she had loved so much growing up.

It resembled the skies of her home planet.

Looking at Mon El, she noticed blood dripping from his nose. The look on his face told her exactly what was happening. If he could project a dome for the viewers outside, he could surely project one for the people inside the arena as well. The boy from 2 was projecting the view of the planet Polemos. What he remembered from memory, when he had visited the place as a child, years ago. The rose-coloured skies were a speciality of her home planet. One that she had missed so much on her time on Terra. She had caught glimpses of it every morning, before sunrise.

It brought tears of nostalgia to her eyes. She shook them away and looked at the male tribute from 2, as she mouthed, ‘Thank you,’ right as he released the arrow.

When the arrow struck her, Sam was no longer in pain. The jerk sent her backwards near the space between two tribute platforms, as she stumbled a little, before slowly falling down on her back, smiling at the view of the sky above her. The moment her back hit the ground, motion sensors buried below, came to life with an ominous beep.

Seconds later, the entire area around the Cornucopia exploded, sending waves of tremors in all directions.

Since the explosives were connected together, they caused a chain reaction, and everything barring the strong construct that was the Cornucopia all but erupted. Chunks of ground flew in all directions, filling the arena with a spray of rocks and boulders of varying sizes. The ground below Kara shook violently, as she turned and stumbled to make her way away from the blast. That was when she incredulously noticed as Mon El stood rooted to his spot, lost in thought, staring at the explosion ahead. Not wasting a second, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away right as a large chunk of concrete fused with lead struck the ground where he was standing half a second ago. Supporting him, she urged him to move away from the blast, and sighed in relief as after another second or so, he complied and finally began moving on his own.

The duo ran away from the centre and took cover behind large trees and dense bushes. They waited as the loud explosions continued for a prolonged amount of time. Her enhanced senses were being ambushed with loud noise and bright visuals as well. She kept her head low and ensured that the boy besides her, who was alert, but remained stoic, was okay. It was all they could do at the moment.

The explosions raged on for what must’ve been five entire minutes. Finally, when the sound died down, it took another five minutes for the ringing to stop. Once it did, a heavy, uncomfortable silence descended all around them. It took both of them a moment to move again.

Kara slowly, carefully turned and looked at the view behind her. Besides her, Mon El, who now seemed as though he was in pain, mirrored her movements. He then slowly stepped out from behind the tree cover and wordlessly made his way back to the centre. Kara followed suit.

Carefully descending the forest slope, they didn’t stop until they reached the edge of the area where the blasts had occurred. Kara viewed all the wreckage around her. Barring a patch of green that had somehow remained unaffected by the explosion, everything else had been completely destroyed. She saw the magnitude of destruction that the explosives had caused. Her heart clenched painfully as she thought about what they had done to the girl from 2. She looked over to the side and noticed Mon El staring at the spot where the Reignian last was. Where she had been when he had shot her. Killed her.

Suddenly, the burdensome silence was replaced with the creaking of the microphone. 

“Attention tributes,” the voice of Claudius Templesmith boomed across the arena. The previous rule change, regarding two victors for the 74th Annual Hunger Games has been… revoked. There can only be one victor. Only one can survive.”

The mic clicked off.

Neither Kara, nor Mon El moved. Kara slowly turned her head to look at Mon El, who did the same and looked up at her with wide eyes. A second passed. Then another. Everything around them had stilled.

Kara was the first to blink. Before the man in front of her could say anything, she spoke up in a frail yet determined voice.

“I’m not gonna let you die.”

To this, Mon El reacted in a way that he had rarely done, ever since the reaping. He displayed anger on his face. It was quite unlike the stoic Career that everyone was used to seeing. It looked far to humane. But a part of him realized that at the moment, he simply didn’t care. Displaying his emotions as a weakness be damned.

“You’re not the only one who wants to save people, you know!” he exclaimed, in a volume a little higher than hers. He stared at her angrily. She stared back matching his intensity. Before either of them could say anything further however, a low growl sounded from behind them.

Both of them turned instantly to see a mutt eyeing them hungrily. Before fear could settle in her mind, Kara saw something that made her not as afraid anymore. She sensed as Mon El was about to engage in combat with the mutt, but before he could do so, she grabbed his arms and laced her fingers with his. He looked at her with knitted brows, confusion growing a little more as he noticed the expressions on her face.

“Trust me?” she asked.

It took him a moment to respond, as he noticed from his side-vision that the mutt was getting closer to them. Ultimately however, he replied with a nod and watched as she turned to look at the approaching beast and stood completely still. Besides her, he too remained rooted to the spot. The mutt was running at full speed now. A few more leaps and it would pounce on them. The distance was gradually decreasing. With a howl, it took one final leap to pounce on its prey.

But the blow never came.

Mon El opened his eyes, and incredulously noticed as the beast that was there seconds ago, mysteriously vanished out of existence right in front of him. It took him a moment to realize that the mutt was just a projection. But why?

His question was answered, as he looked at what lay just a step behind him. The region that was unaffected by the explosions, the one that had still remained untouched. The motion sensors below it were still live. The explosives behind him were still armed. The mutt was simply meant to startle them and take a step back. One step back and he would’ve died.

Fortunately, Kara had recognized it. He looked at her as she replied with, “Always look at their feet. James taught me that,” she explained referring to how her fellow tribute had taught her to differentiate between real and light mirage mutts, as a pained expression passed across her face. 

They remained still. Both bore pain in their eyes and strain and exhaustion in their bodies. The only sense of comfort was that they were both still holding hands.

The moment of silence however, did not last for long, as another growl sounded from the forest. This time, the mutt appeared much farther, but its growl was just as loud as the previous one. Kara panicked, as she noticed its legs. But before it could move towards them,

“Stop!” a panicked voice sounded throughout the arena. “Stop, don’t move!” It took the only remaining tributes in the arena some time to recognize the voice, but when they did, they incredulously looked up towards the camera. ‘Why was the head-gamemaker making announcements?’ they both thought.

A pause, before Seneca Crane continued. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the victors of the 74th Annual Hunger Games. Mon El Roqford and Kara Zorel.”

If the mutt had stilled them before, the announcement managed to do an even better job at it, as looks of shock and disbelief were plastered on the wide-eyed tribute who were standing near the centre of the arena. At first, they thought it was just a trick. A part of the dark humour in tragedy that the Capitol seemed to enjoy so much. But then, when a few seconds passed, and there was no other follow-up announcement, the news finally sunk in.

Instantly, as though someone had flipped a switch, they embraced each other with unmatched intensity, enough to crush a human’s ribs and shoulders entirely. Both of them wanted to cry, scream and calm down at the same time. But they channeled all those emotions in a hug. They didn’t let go. Couldn’t let go, for the longest time until their embrace was interrupted by the sound of a hovercraft that had come to take them out of the arena.

In their minds, they could form only one coherent thought.

‘It was over now.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAN OH MAN THIS CHAPTER I HAVE BEEN EXCITED TO WRITE THE REVELATION FOR SO LONG!!!!  
Seriously, this is such a dear chapter to me, mainly on two accounts:  
1\. To explain the plan and when they figured out the details, I had to make use of a lot of complex past tense and participles. I hope it worked out okay grammatically and that it wasn't confusing  
2\. REIGNIAN FROM POLEMOS!!! The name of the planet is just Greek for battle! I was so excited to reveal this information about her. Let me know if you saw this coming! 
> 
> 3\. Oh my gosh I still can't believe that this is such a long chapter. I sincerely apologize if it seems rushed or repetitive in places because I did not have much time to write this at all and I began writing only on Saturday after a super busy week which was quickly followed by a super busy weekend. I like how it has turned out, but do let me know how you guys like it!  
4\. Aren't you grateful now that Seneca reached the Capitol on time?!!!  
5, Next Chapter is the final one...! So excited!
> 
> Until Next Time!  
P.S.: Now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go watch my space puppies be AWE and SOME together!! (I had promised myself that I wouldn't watch the 100th episode until I was done with this chapter!)


	28. Aftermath - III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They were no longer tributes. They were victors now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OhMahGawsh!!! THE WORD COUNT!

This was the end.

Mon El stared at the large metallic walls of the helicarrier, as it eerily grew bigger, descending slowly, cautiously, hovering above the ruins surrounding the Cornucopia. It continued its steady descent for some time, appearing more and more into view, before coming to a stop directly above the only remaining tributes of the 74th Annual Hunger Games. 

For a long second, everything around them stilled. Without realizing it, both tributes held their breaths, as though expecting an alarming event to follow. Perhaps the large ship was just a distraction. Peace preceding a crisis. A mutt attack. Or some other unthinkable ambush. But nothing happened. For the longest time, nothing moved. Then, all of a sudden, the metallic walls of the craft parted, giving way to a large metal ladder that slowly extended and reached down to the ground in front of the wide-eyed tributes.

Wide-eyed  _ victors _ .

The word sent chills down Mon El’s spine. Although his mind was still fighting to navigate through the foggy chaos that had reigned over his entirety ever since he had released the arrow that had killed the female tribute from his own District, a voice in his head reminded him of exactly what the helicarrier above him symbolized.

He was no longer a tribute now. He was a victor.

Two peacekeepers, clad in their usual white uniform and armed with a white rifle-like weapon, appeared at the entrance of the carrier. Both victors observed, as the guards stepped onto the ladder and carefully made their way to the ground. Then, wordlessly, each peacekeeper grabbed a victor’s arm and gently but firmly ushered them towards the ladder. It was at that moment that Mon El realized two things.

First, that they were still holding hands, too scared, too unyielding to let go. He looked at Kara and observed the look that he was sure was on his own face. Alarm. Fear of what was to follow. Although he registered fear in his own mind, he failed to recognize the exact reason for it. It was all over, wasn’t it? They were finally leaving this arena, this hell. They were finally done. The 74th Annual Hunger Games had officially come to an end. Then why did they feel the way that they did? The ladder that led to their freedom was right in front of them, awaiting their imminent arrival. Then why weren’t they all but eager to climb? What was holding them back?

As he stared at the ladder, he was suddenly reminded of the time after the reaping when peacekeepers had come to take him towards the train station, where he had boarded a train that had taken him away from home. The fear, the panic, every bit felt familiar. He even registered the small part of him that wanted to simply run away. To make a dash towards the forest and hide behind the thick trees, away from the view of the merciless Capitol. It was at that moment that he realized what was happening. He was afraid, not because there was an immediate threat lurking nearby, but rather because he was, for the first time in days, unaware of what was to follow.

Fear of the unknown.

It was one so strong, so intense, that for the longest time, it made it impossible to move. He remained rooted to his spot, as he realized how his time in the arena had instilled in him the fear of whatever lay ahead. He had no idea what awaited them in the large craft above them. Tests, attacks, ambushes, he just couldn’t be sure. After having expected and being prepared for the worst, everything around him just seemed too good to be true. What was the catch, and when would it reveal itself? Being launched into the arena was already one of the most terrifying things that he had ever done. Leaving it was proving to be even more so.

Without realizing it, he gripped Kara’s hand a little tighter, noticing in the back of his mind, how she did the same, and upon some insistence from the peacekeeper behind him, finally began towards the ladder, only for his knees to suddenly give in before he could even reach the first step. That was the other thing that stood out in all the chaos in his mind. 

Pain. 

During his final fight in the arena, his knee had been brutally twisted. The events that had followed afterwards had supplied him with enough adrenaline to carry him through everything right till the end, without really focussing on the pain that flared up everytime he put weight on his right leg. Now that things had suddenly become less eventful, reality set in, making him realize exactly how drained he felt. Now, he registered nothing but pain as he tried to take a step forward, only to stumble and fall, were it not for being saved by Kara at the very last second, as she grabbed him by the shoulders and steadied him a little, as he grabbed his knee and scrunched in pain. His neck burned all along the side, as he noticed blood spilling from the tracker-jacker scar that had been cut during the fight. Weakness suddenly took over, as he barely noticed as Kara, along with the two peacekeepers who had been sent to retrieve the victors, grabbed him and helped him onto the first step of the ladder. In his mind, he incredulously realized how it felt different from the weakness that accompanied when he turned human. How this pain didn’t make him feel as vulnerable. Instead, it was agonizing in its own way. He had never felt like this before.

After all, he had never really fought an alien before.

Before his mind could spiral, owing to the many thoughts that he had regarding his final fight in the arena, which were becoming blurrier by the second, he instantly pulled his focus to the alien besides him, who was looking at him with worried eyes, tinged with fear on the sides. He realized how they still hadn’t let go, gripping each other’s hands as though the other’s life depended on it. Maybe it did; he was not sure. The one thing he knew with enhanced clarity however, was that he wouldn't let anything happen to Kara. Not after everything that had happened in the past few days. Not after everything that they had been through.

It was why, even after he had stepped onto the metal bar with great difficulty, only after Kara had joined him on the bar as well, did he relax a little. Behind them, the peacekeepers gently nudged them, ushering them upwards. When both victors reached the second metal bar of the ladder, the uniformed guards stepped on to the first step themselves. One of them signalled to the top. Instantly, the ladder shuddered to life and began moving upwards. Mon El firmly held on to the metal with one hand while his other gripped onto Kara’s hand. Neither of them knew or understood exactly what was to follow. They simply held on and waited with bated breaths for whatever challenge was thrown their way next.

Above him, Mon El noticed how the long ladder neatly folded into layers and formed a gate-like structure, draping over the entrance of the large ship. They were only a few feet from the entrance, when he noticed a group of people scattered all across the vast interior of the ship. Immediately, instincts kicked in, as he quickly prepared for the numerous scenarios that involved multiple people attacking them, and how they could get out of the situation alive. Below him, his movement was restricted by peacekeepers. As the ladder speedily rushed to transport its passengers to the ship, he realized that they were already too high to jump. Sure, they could fly, but given everything, an alarm rang in his mind, indicating to him that it was not a good idea. So, his only option now, was to somehow take over the ship once they reached the entrance. With that in mind, he gripped the metal bar a little tighter, the colour from his knuckles draining a little. 

The clink in the metal above them indicated to Mon El that they had reached the entrance. His thoughts were blurrier now, along with his vision, as with knitted brows, he noticed silhouettes of men and women, all of whom were wearing white lab coats and had masks covering most of their faces. The sight, coupled with the eerie silence all across the room caused a fright to grow within him, as his breathing quickened a little. He tried to observe his surroundings, but found that he couldn’t quite describe the various aspects of the area in front of him, as the room came into focus one second, and went out of it the next. This continued for a long moment, before a distant part of him realized that he had already reached the entrance.

But he was still gripping onto the metal bar. 

He tried to let go, but managed to do so, only after a firm nudge by the peacekeeper behind him. The moment his hand let go of the bar, he tried to step forwards towards the one end of the room that seemed slightly less crowded than the rest. All thoughts to fight and flee however, evaporated into thin air, for the moment he took one step, he collapsed. Pairs of hands grabbed him, preventing him from falling face-first to the cold metal floor, while he heard Kara’s familiar voice laced with fear, calling out to him. He wanted to respond, but his body felt weak, which panicked him. The only part that he still had control over, was the hand that was still holding on to Kara’s hand. It kept him somewhat steady, mentally.

That relief however, was short-lived, because moments after, rough pairs of hands pried him away from her. The panic grew, as he tried to hold on, for as long as his body allowed, but ultimately, was forced to let go. Suddenly, he felt himself being carried. He looked up to see masked faces crowded all around him. They were taking him somewhere. Where? Before he could try to answer the question, the movement abruptly stopped, as the hands that were carrying him, were now replaced by a firm mattress.

He stared above him, trying his level best to stay awake. He looked around him, as far as he could look without moving his neck, and observed as the masked faces instantly got busy with whatever it was that they were doing. Two of them were standing by his injured knee, while another two stood on either side of his head. He wanted to ask what was happening, but realized that his voice was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, one of the masked persons by his head, retrieved a white device and brought it close to Mon El’s face. The alien quickly found his lost strength, as he raised his arm and tried to push the device away. His attempts however, were proved fruitless, as the other faceless person grabbed his arm and pushed it down. The man holding the device then proceeded to place it on Mon El’s forehead.

The moment he did, Mon El suddenly felt his body beginning to go numb. A fictitious peace began spreading over his mind. It took him a few more moments to suddenly realize what was happening.

It was a miracle he remembered to pull his hand to his necklace and touch the spot of lead on it, before darkness consumed him entirely.

* * *

It was a miracle that Seneca had reached the headquarters on time.

The head-gamemaker had been unable to contact his team, and therefore had been forced to sit through the entire finale, biting his nails when the girl from 2 had finally died in the explosion, leaving the boy from 2 and the girl from 12 as the final tributes. The moment the projected-mutt had attacked them, Seneca had finally reached the entrance of the Game headquarters. His instructions to his team the previous day had been very clear. If the girl from 12 and the boy from 2 were the last ones remaining, then the girl was to be killed, and the boy was to be made the victor.

A lot had changed since then.

The moment the second mutt, real this time, had appeared near the edges of the forest, programmed to attack the girl, Seneca had rushed through the doors of the main control-room. Snatching the mic from a very confused Claudius Templesmith, he had ordered and announced at the same time for his team to stop the genetically modified beast that was meant to kill the girl.

At that moment, the only viable option that could ensure that the girl could be removed from the arena, was to declare her the victor. But, the only way that was possible, was if the boy from 2 was a victor too. Hence, he had proceeded to announce them as victors and had then ordered the retrieval team to bring back  _ both  _ victors from the arena, and ensure that once they were fully recovered, bring them straight to him and no one else. His team had stared at him with knitted brows, but had complied nonetheless.

Now, all he needed to do was wait.

As he sat in the plush chair in his office, Seneca realized that this was the first time in his entire career that he was actually excited for the events that were to follow after the actual Games had already ended. He realized that as risky as it was to go against the rules, and as unconventional as it was to have not one but two victors, the ends more than justified the means. He was excited, thrilled to be able to finally share the shocking news that he had uncovered. Before he could do so, however, he needed to be sure, absolutely certain. That was why he had to wait until both tributes had fully recovered.

_ Both _ tributes.

That was yet another thing that Seneca had been delighted about. After having heard the mysterious recording about the girl from 12 being an alien, he had recalled an incident that had occurred quite a few years ago. Something about an alien that had landed in the Capitol. The news had been covered up from all of Panem, but a few privileged members of the Capitol, not unlike himself, had been told of the incident in great detail. It further helped that the lead scientist was a friend of Seneca’s. In all the tests that they ran on this alien under the secret project called ‘ **K** now  **A** lien  **L** ife’ or KAL for short, one of the tests had revealed that the foreign being had incredible abilities. Among other impressive things, it was able to turn invisible, speed through unimaginable speeds and much more.

Before his trip to the forest lying in the outskirts of District 12, Seneca wouldn’t even have realized the connection. But now, it just seemed far too plausible, to be ignored and dismissed at all. Things had suddenly fallen into place and Seneca had been able to view the whole picture, clearer than ever before. The reason that the boy from 2 was able to hide from the cameras. How he had disappeared from one spot and reappeared in the next within a fraction of a second. Though he wasn’t entirely sure yet, but Seneca knew one thing for sure. 

Both his victors for the 74th Annual Hunger Games, were in no way, what they seemed.

With time, his impatience grew. He needed answers, and he needed them immediately. Most importantly, he needed proof. Undeniable evidence that was likely to guarantee his position as head-gamemaker permanently. Sighing contentedly, he tried to distract himself from his restlessness and turned his attention to the small bead that lay in his pocket. He removed the alien device and, placing it in his palm, observed it carefully. Owing to how shocking the news was, Seneca had refrained from telling his assistant, or anyone for that matter, about the device. He needed to play his cards carefully. He had to ensure that he was the first to report the news to all of Panem.

To report it to President Snow.

The head-gamemaker sat up in his chair. Until now, he hadn’t even considered what it would be like to report the news to the President himself. How would he react to it? More importantly, how would he reward Seneca for it? A part of him hoped that it would finally get the old man off his back and that he would finally allow him to handle tough situations in the Games on his own. A larger part of him knew that that was simply impossible. 

And to think, that the president had ordered him to kill the girl from 12.

A smile adorned his face, as he thought about how flabbergasted the President would be when he would hear the news. He checked around him. Only when he was absolutely sure that there was no one within earshot of his office, he turned his attention to the bead-like device in his hand, and carefully pressed it in his palm. 

The smile was wiped clean from his face when the device lay motionless; nothing changed.

Seneca tried again, and again. But no matter what he did, the device did not illuminate to life. It lay motionless in his palm, appearing as mundane as a nightlock berry. He pressed the device to his ear, but could hear nothing. No trace of the recording of the mysterious woman, that was part of his proof for identifying the girl from 12 as an alien.

‘This can’t be happening,’ a panicked Seneca thought to himself, as he tried to recall exactly what he had done in the forest that had activated the device. He tried to replicate his movements, but sighed frustratedly, when nothing about the situation changed. ‘Could this get any worse,’ he thought to him annoyedly.

Almost as if on cue, there was a knock on his office door. 

“Sir,” his assistant called from outside. “There are two men here sent by President Snow. They say that the President has ordered for you to be brought to the mansion immediately and that they are here to take you there. They’re insisting you be ready within the minute.”

The head-gamemaker panicked a little. While he had expected that the President would want to meet him after the two victors stunt, he had planned on sounding the recording for the President himself, thereby buying enough time for himself, until the two aliens were nursed back to health. What he hadn’t expected, was for the alien device to stop working all of a sudden. 

Focus.

He needed to focus on the situation, and work it out step-by step.

After responding to George, Seneca quickly pulled open the drawer under his table and placed the seemingly useless bead-like device inside. He wasn’t sure why the thing had stopped working, but for now, it wasn’t his concern. For now, he needed to come up with a way, to convince the President of what the head-gamemaker had seen in the forest outside of 12.

He hurried out of his office and came face-to-face with two tall, intimidating men, both of whom had impatience written all over their faces. “We must hurry,” one of them said in a scornful tone. “The President does not lie to be kept waiting.”

* * *

The ride to the Presidential palace had been a quiet one. The arrival, quieter.

Not unlike when the head-gamemaker had visited the mansion last time, everything was muted, the distinct lack of any activity in the surrounding area standing out in the silence. But unlike last time, this time, Seneca was accompanied by two people: the men that had brought them here. 

The first thing that he had noticed about them, was how hefty they looked. When George had told him that the President had sent two people, the head-gamemaker had expected two businessmen-like people in suits and carrying black, leather suitcases. It was therefore quite surprising, when he had been greeted by two men that looked as though they were eligible to join the President's guard of peacekeepers.

Patience running low now, Seneca waited for another fifteen minutes, before finally voicing his complaints. “Well, where is he?” he said trying desperately to hide the tinge of nervousness in his voice. “I need to speak with him immediately.”

Not that he had expected anything different, but when the two men remained completely impassive, ignoring Seneca’s words, the head-gamemaker felt somewhat offended.

Just then, the man standing directly in front of him pressed his earpiece and listened for a moment with his head down. A second later, he replied with, “Yes sir,” and instantly turned to look at Seneca. “This way, head-gamemaker.”

As much as Seneca recognized the mockery in his tone, he ignored it, and followed the man through the mansion’s long corridor. Through the walk, he tried to think of ways that could help him explain his predicament to the President. After all, he couldn’t just enter the room and shout “Aliens in the Games!” No. He had to work up a conversation. The President would surely be in a sour mood, after the two victors announcement. He had to play his cards carefully.

Lost in thought, he didn’t quite notice where they were headed. A few feet from the intended room, Seneca paid attention to his surroundings. It made him realize that he recognized this place. He had been to this part of the palace before. Only when he observed the sleek, steel doors of the room at the end of the corridor, did he finally remember. It was the same room that he had stumbled upon during his last visit to the Presidential palace. Just like before, the room remained absolutely plain. Cold and uninviting, it was exactly the way Seneca remembered it from last time. 

Only difference was that now, unlike before, the room was occupied.

The man waited at the door and ushered the head-gamemaker in. Once inside, he wordlessly proceeded to close the doors shut. Seneca didn’t miss the small click that followed and incredulously turned to see that the doors had been locked shut. Before he could raise his concerns however,

“Did you know that the head-gamemaker for the 74th Annual Hunger Games was missing for two whole days?”

The President’s cold tone startled Seneca, as he turned and nervously looked. President Snow was seated behind the elegant table at the centre of the room, directly below the beautiful crystal chandelier. Words failed him for a moment, as he noticed the President's cold stare. Before he could respond to the question, the President gestured to the seat in front of the table. Seneca obliged.

Once seated, he observed as the man in front of him picked the bottle kept on the far end of the table and poured out the drink in two crystal glasses kept near it. Realizing that this was his chance, Seneca hesitantly began. “Sir- I uh… I know what you’re probably thinking but- I assure you, that I can explain-”

“What’s more,” President Snow cut him short, “is that this mistake alone, I would have tolerated.” Sliding one of the two glasses towards Seneca, he continued. “You would have only lost your term as the head-gamemaker next year, but it would have been a serious hit to your reputation as head-gamemaker.” He eyed the head-gamemaker as he nervously picked the glass, but waited to take a sip. “But, you came back and made things… better,” he concluded with a sly smile. 

Suddenly, Seneca looked up. Startled by the President’s words, he looked at him with wide eyes. Only upon noticing the smile on his face, he realized what had actually happened.

The President had given him a compliment.

“I am told that this year’s were the best Games in a very long time. You have broken a new record, Seneca. Congratulations.”

Seneca smiled, more in relief than anything else as he proudly replied with, “Thank You sir!”

President Snow quickly raised his glass. “To Seneca Crane, the head-gamemaker of the 74th Annual Hunger Games. The gamemaker that has had one successful Game after another. The man who is ‘on fire’ as the kids say,” he smiled.

Enthusiastically, Seneca clinked his glass with the President’s and gulped down the contents in one gulp. Placing the empty glass back on the table, he noticed, embarassed by how fast he had drank, that the President hadn’t even taken a sip yet. He looked at the man abashedly and patiently waited for him to finish his drink.

He observed with knitted brows, when the President placed his untouched glass back on the table instead.

“I warned you, Seneca,” he said, the sudden change in tone and demeanour did not go unnoticed by the head-gamemaker. “Too much fire can be disastrous.”

It took a second for Seneca to understand. But when he did, he quickly began, “No sir, you don’t understand, I can-”

“I told you to contain it,” the president cut through again, raising his voice just a little. “I asked you to tread carefully. Instead, you made things worse.” Leaning back in his chair, he said, “I told you of the consequences of defiance.”

“Sir you don’t understand,” Seneca began, hurriedly. “I had an excellent reason to back my decision. I assure you I can-” but before he could continue, he suddenly felt something.

He brought his hand up to his nose and looked at his fingers. Blood. He was bleeding through his nose. Confused, he tried to speak, but suddenly realized that he couldn’t, as he felt his throat was beginning to close up. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. Instead, he found that blood was choking up his nose as well as his throat, making it impossible to breathe. He coughed, trying to rid his throat of the blockage, but the more he coughed, the more it became difficult to inhale. He looked up at the President with wide eyes, trying to desperately communicate his condition.

Wide eyes turned wider however, when the President simply looked at him, his demeanour as calm as ever.

As a final, desperate attempt, Seneca tried to get up from his chair, but found that he couldn’t. Finally, the struggle abruptly stopped, as he slumped in his chair. The last thing he saw was the reflection of the crystal chandelier on the glass that had contained the poison that killed him.

* * *

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the tall ceiling above her.

Kara hadn’t opened her eyes fully, yet. She was squinting, as she observed the tall, elegant ceiling above her. At that moment, her mind could form only one coherent thought.

‘There are no ceilings in forests.’

The arena was a forest. Why was there a tall ceiling in the middle of it? Was she dreaming? Or was it just another one of the gamemakers’ tricks? The next thing she noticed was the soft pillow under her head. Why wasn’t her head resting against a rock, or a tree trunk? 

A moment passed, before she suddenly realized.

Memories from her final moments in the arena flooded her mind. The deadly mutts, the explosion, the mutt projection and then finally the helicarrier. She recalled everything that had occured when they had been taken inside the craft. The masked faces around her, the sheer panic she had felt when they had tried to take away her pin of hope from her. They had ultimately snatched it away from her, but not before she had touched the spot of Kryptonite on its tip. Shortly after, she had fallen unconscious. 

Now, as she lay here, she recognized numerous things, the first one being that she was not aware of where she was, exactly. It was why her instincts told her to remain still. She realized that since she was still alive, she wasn’t in any immediate threat. That could change however, if she moved. Therefore, remaining still, she looked around her, trying to make sense of where she was. 

All of a sudden, she noticed some movement near her. It caused her panicked mind to take control of her, as she sharply jerked away from the movement and tried to move as away from it as she could. Suddenly firm arms grabbed her, but owing to her frenzied state and invulnerable skin, she could barely sense the arms. Her mind was filled with a sudden ambush of questions. Where was she? Why was she here? All she knew for sure, was that she needed to get out of here. Suddenly, her super-hearing picked up on some words.

“Woah! Hey, easy, easy!” Henry tried his level best to calm Kara down. “It’s okay, you’re not there anymore. You’re not in the arena. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Kara wasn’t sure if it was the words itself or because she recognized her mentor’s voice, but she realized instantly understood where she was. It caused her to calm down a little, as she looked around her and noticed the room. The large windows were a giveaway. They seemed familiar; less recognizable than home, but also less foreign than the arena. The view of the Capitol outside told her where she was. She was in her room in the Capitol tribute centre; the place where she had been before she was sent in the arena.

Before the arena; the time seemed so long ago.

“You’re outside,” Henry’s voice pulled her out of her reverie, while his words caused her to relax a little. “You made it.”

Breathing heavily, she remained quiet for a moment. Closing her eyes, she tried to sort out her memories. She tried hard to remember what had happened in the helicarrier. She knew after that was a complete blank. So she focussed on all the things that had happened before she fell unconscious. 

“How do you feel?” Henry asked.

The question suddenly reminded her of her final moments in the arena in stark detail. She recalled how not one but two mutts had attacked her, how she had fought them with all her strength, how she had been bit, multiple times on the arm. After the brutal combat that she had somehow managed to win, Kara had sported extensive injuries on her arms, while cuts and bruises had adorned her face. Of all the things, she remembered the pain with the most intensity.

Now however, not a trace of that pain was left.

She looked at her arms and legs and realized that she was completely healed. Looking at her own reflection on the glass window in front of her, she realized that her face too was completely healed, not a single scar to be seen. It made her realize that the masked people, that had appeared as faceless monsters at the time, were actually doctors. The moment she had stepped inside the helicarrier, they had probably begun working on healing the victors before their victory interview.

Victors.

A realization struck her, as she suddenly looked at her mentor with wide eyes, anxiety clear in them.

“Where’s Mon El?” she asked, the desperation in her voice quite apparent.

As an answer, Henry gave her nothing more than a peculiar look, causing her worry to grow tenfold. Noticing how it affected the look on her face however, Henry quickly responded, before she could say any further.

“Mon El’s fine. He’s resting. He had a twisted knee, so it took a little longer for the doctors to release him. But he’s fine now. Don’t worry, he’ll wake up completely healed, just like you.”

Kara sighed with relief. Her features relaxed, as the information caused her to calm down even more. A part of her realized just how scared it had made her to even think that the alien that had been with her throughout her time in the arena was in danger. They had protected each other. Even the thought of losing him after everything that they had been through, after they were out of the hell that was the arena, was downright unbearable.

She didn’t notice as Henry continued to look at her with the peculiar look from before. “Kara,” he said, gaining her attention. “I know you don’t want to right now, but we need to talk about something important.”

The look Henry had in his eyes was a serious one. Kara looked at him directly in the eyes, indicating that he had her full attention.

With a deep breath, he began. “What happened in the arena, it was… not supposed to happen.” Noticing her knitted brows, he continued. “The only reason that they announced the rule change about two victors, was because they wanted to calm down the riots in District 11.”

Kara listened as Henry described everything that had transpired after Rue. He told her about how District 11 had been touched by her courage and bravery and how they appreciated what she did for the poor little girl. She had set an example for the people. She had given them the opportunity to fight back the unjust ways of the Capitol. She had given them hope in the darkest of times; when they had lost a child from their District. Not because of the arrow, but rather because of the cruelty that were the Games.

“I never meant for anyone to get hurt,” Kara said, almost in a whisper, having a hard time comprehending everything. The riots had caused a disciplined guard to be set up in 11. Lots of people had been hurt, the District granaries destroyed.

“I know that. In fact I’m pretty sure 11 knows that too.” Henry responded and paused, before continuing. “Unfortunately, certain people don’t see it that way.”

The way he had said ‘certain people’ left no doubt in Kara’s mind regarding whom he was referring to.

The Capitol.

“They see your actions as an act of defiance,” he continued. “Giving the girl a teary farewell and provoking the people of 11. It has caused massive loss of property among other things. It was a direct hit to the regulations of the Games.” Henry paused again, as though preparing himself for whatever he was to say next.

“But that’s not the main reason that they don’t like your victory,” he said cryptically. “Throughout the Games, you had formed an alliance with someone from another District. Now, the alliance in itself would have been okay, but it remained intact until the very end, and even after it. Even when you two were the only ones remaining. Instead of trying to kill each other, you stood by one another, and ensured that the other didn’t die.”

Kara slowly understood what Henry was trying to say. “This irked some people,” he continued, “because of two things. Firstly, it’s against the rules to have more than one victor, and secondly, your alliance was with a tribute from a different District.”

Kara understood the first reason; she had even expected it a little. But the second reason confused her. In response, Henry explained. “Because of the Games and because of the way the Capitol has maintained the structure of Panem, there’s always been a certain enmity between the Districts. Ever since the uprising, the Capitol has done everything in its power to keep people from different Districts separated. Unfortunately, your alliance with the Career from 2 was a blow to them. They view it as defiance of the most basic rule that they have set for the Districts.”

Kara understood. Divide and Conquer. It was how the Capitol had always ruled Panem. It was why the last uprising had failed, and why there had never been an uprising again. The rulers of Panem had managed to maintain discord between the people from different Districts with the concept of the Games. They were forced to care only about the tribute from home and no one else. As long as a tribute from one District survived, those from others had to die. That was how it was. That was the rule.

And Kara had broken that rule.

“You showed them up,” Henry finally saind. “They’re not happy about it.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Kara said a little sharply. “I’m out of the arena, and so is Mon El. There’s nothing anyone can do to change that. We did what we had to do to survive in the end. I’m sorry if that offends people or whatever-”

“It’s not that simple, Kara,” Henry exclaimed. “The people of the Capitol, they… they don’t let go of stuff like this. They take things personally, and what you did, it was like an insult to the Capitol itself.”

Kara remained quiet for a few seconds, considering her next words, before she finally responded with a query of her own. 

“Then why didn’t they just kill me?”

THe question had been eating away at the back of Kara’s mind for quite some time, ever since the head-gamemaker had made the final victor announcement. Now, as Henry had explained to her how they took simple holding of hands and refusal to kill as a direct insult to the Capitol and the Games, she couldn’t help but wonder why it wasn’t put to an end right away. If the gamemakers were so offended by what Kara had done both for Rue and for Mon El, then why not just kill her right then and there when they had the chance?

Observing the look on Henry’s face, she instantly understood that the answer was not one he was sure of himself. “From what I know,” Henry began, “that was exactly what was supposed to happen. You were supposed to die. The mutt in the end, the real one, it was supposed to kill you, leaving Mon El as the victor.”

“But then,” Henry continued, “all of a sudden, the head-gamemaker intervened and announced you both as victors.”

“Why?” Kara asked as she tried to think of the reason herself.

“No one knows.” Henry’s response caused Kara to further knit her brows in confusion. In the next moment, Henry explained his answer.

“No one knows why he had you two pulled out of the arena like that. Nobody realizes the true reason for declaring not one, but two victors… And it seems now, people won’t know the reason either. Because a few hours after you two were pulled out,... Seneca Crane was found dead on the outskirts of the Capitol.”

The statement was a direct blow to Kara, as she found herself unable to respond to the news properly. Chaos brewed in her mind as she tried to make sense of what she had just been told, but couldn’t. Seneca Crane, the head-gamemaker for the 74th Annual Hunger Games, the man who, as it turned out, had saved her life, the reason for it unknown, had mysteriously ended up dead the moment she had exited the arena.

The news sent chills down her spine, as she realized the gravity of the situation. 

“Everything’s gonna be difficult now,” Henry said. “You need to handle this situation extremely carefully. For your sake… and for others’.”

Kara quickly understood that ‘others’ included her family, Mon El, and the Districts. It instantly cleared her mind as she considered that the safety of either of these was in question. She couldn’t, wouldn’t let anything happen to them. She couldn’t let her mistake affect anyone. She couldn’t bear to be the survivor that caused the deaths of others. Not again. She had to protect them all.

“How do we get through this?” she asked with renewed determination.

* * *

The week following the end of the 74th Annual Hunger Games went by at an incredible speed. As soon as both victors had made a full recovery, they had been dragged to the first of many victor interviews with Caesar Flickerman. Since the two victor situation was quite unconventional, the victors had been interviewed separately.

In that interview, viewers had learned quite a few things. From explanations behind strategies to gaining insight about the victor’s favourite moment in the arena, everything had been quite entertaining to the crowd to say the least. But all of that was merely the opening act. They were just a trailer to the actual juicy piece of information, that had left the audience gasping in shock.

“So finally,” Caesar had asked Mon El, who had been interviewed first. “Are you happy with how everything turned out?”

Mon El had taken a moment before responding. “Well, no!” he had exclaimed. “I am not at all happy with how things turned out in the end. I feel like it was totally unfair that that fluke from 12 was declared a victor alongside me.”

This had been followed by gasps of a shocked audience. “Wait, hold on,” Caesar had continued. “You;re telling me, that you’re not happy that the girl from 12 survived?”

“Of course not!” Mon El had exclaimed. “Why would I be?”

“Well, for one thing, the alliance-”

“Oh come on, Caesar!” Mon El had exclaimed. “Alliances are meant to be broken in the Games, you know how they work. The plan was never for the girl from 12 to survive at all.”

“Then why didn’t you kill her right away?”

“Because I was injured. After Sam died,” he had hesitated, but only for a moment, “I was seriously injured. I knew that the girl from 12 was at an advantage. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to attack her. So I did exactly what I could to try and kill her. I tricked her. I held her hand, made it look like I was still by her side, but it was all a ploy. I never meant for her to actually win, that’s ridiculous!”

“But she did,” Caesar continued. “How does that make you feel?”

“Annoyed,” he said coldly. “Like some tribute from an outline District can just reach the finale and win. Caesar, I come from 2, the most popular Career District. I work very hard. I plan things, create ploys and act accordingly. So why does someone who did nothing right till the end, get to be a victor alongside me?” He had noticed how his words had managed to gain the sympathy of the crowd. Needless to say that by the end of his interview, going from the cheers that he had received, Mon El was quite a favourite among the viewers of the Capitol.

The exact same could be said about the girl from 12.

Kara’s interview had received a massive response as well, comparable to that of the boy from 2. But rather than sympathy, she had received enthusiastic cheers of encouragement, when she had explained the events of the finale from her perspective. 

“At the end of the day, it’s a game,” Kara had responded with a smile on her face. “We were all trying to win from the moment the countdown clock struck zero. We all had our own strategies. Mine was to get the Career from 2 in a spot where I could be sure that he would be helpless. I knew that since he was injured, he wouldn’t be able to fight a mutt. So, when I held his hand, I was holding him in place.” 

The audience was shocked, yet again, as they realized that while the boy from 2 was trying to trick the girl from 12, the girl was doing very much the same to him. They were both trying to kill the other. The holding hands was a ploy, as both of them were trying to achieve the same thing.

The other tribute’s death; their own victory.

“Now then, when they announced that both of you had won,” Caesar had continued, “how did that make you feel?”

Unlike Mon El, Kara hadn’t seemed annoyed. Instead, she had raised her brows and thought for a moment before responding, “Well, I mean, is it the outcome that I wanted? No. absolutely not. But, on the other hand, there is one favourable thing that came from all this.”

“And what’s that?”

“I got to show a Career up.” Taking note of the ‘oohs and aahs’ from the audience, Kara had continued. “I think the fact that a girl from 12 won the same year as a Career from the prestigious District 2,” Kara had said, mockingly, “just goes to show that they now have worthy competition. District 12 might have been just an outline District before, but after this, I think the other Districts are gonna wanna watch out for our tributes.”

That had earned her a thunderous applause.

After that, the rest of the ceremonies that included more interviews, photoshoots and the prestigious victor ceremony where both Mon El and Kara had been presented with a crown and a ceremonial staff for the honour of winning the 74th Annual Hunger Games by the President of Panem himself.

To mark the end of the week, both tributes had boarded separate trains, each accompanied by their mentors and had been sent off to their own Districts, their homes.

For the longest time, Mon El stared at the scenery that rushed by. They had left the Capitol at night and were expected to arrive at 2 early in the morning. The victor from 2 had tried, but failed to sleep. Instead, throughout the journey, he had remained quiet, lost, deep in thought. 

Besides him, Wells hadn’t uttered a word either, since they had left the Capitol. He knew exactly what Mon El was going through. He understood that at the moment, talking about things would just make things more difficult than they already were. He needed time. Time to realize the exact situation that he was put in. Time to deal with everything that had happened. Only after he was willing to allow himself to, could he finally begin to heal.

The colour of the sky was changing now. Traces of sunlight appeared and illuminated the sky, giving it a pink-purple hue. Mon El stared at the beautiful backdrop with pained, tired eyes.

Another hour passed before they finally reached their destination. Mon El could see that they were only a few metres from District 2’s station now. He stood by the window, facing the view outside with stoic features. Wells came and stood next to him. They remained quiet for a moment, before Mon El finally spoke up.

“Everything’s gonna be different now, isn’t it?” he asked.

It caused the mentor to look at his victor with sympathetic eyes. A long second passed, before Wells replied regretfully, with his one-worded answer.

“Yes.”

The moment the train passed through the entrance of the station, somber expressions left Mon El’s face entirely. As he came face-to-face with the people from his District, who had gathered at the train station to cheer on his arrival, he looked at them and waved to them with a triumphant smile. Both victors from 2 exited the train and were greeted with applause, which they accepted with wide grins on their faces. 

The grins remained in place for the longest time, as they made their slow and steady advance through the crowded train station, towards the exit. The saccharine smile still in place along with artificial pride that showed so clearly, Mon El maintained his facade for as long as he could until he came to an abrupt halt a few feet in front of someone, and suddenly, he couldn’t. The smile was replaced with an open mouth and wide eyes, as he saw the person standing in front of her.

Words failed him entirely, while the tears that he had been looking for for so long, back on the train, caught up with him immediately. A tear spilled from his eyes as he wordlessly rushed towards the girl. It took all his self-control to not embrace Maya with the same strength as when he had hugged Kara, for at the very last second he held back enough to hold her tightly, but not accidentally injure the frail little girl, who had now begun cryin in his arms. It took him a moment to realize that he was crying too. 

Until that very moment, his mind had refrained from thinking about his sister. He had forbidden himself from thoughts about home, So now, as he held Maya, he let out the breath that he had held ever since the reaping. For the first time since the entire ordeal had begun, Mon El slumped his shoulders and relaxed. He finally allowed himself to realize that he had made it. He had finally reunited with his family. He was home. 

There was applause all around them, but Mon El ignored it. He didn’t want to face crowds anymore. He wanted to ignore all of it. All he cared about was that at that moment, he was here. Maya was here. His family was here. That was all that mattered. They were all that mattered.

They were all that mattered.

A part of him realized the consequences and repercussions of his victory, and how it would affect the safety of the people that he loved and cared for the most. Reluctantly, he was pulled out of the state of peace that he was in, as he considered everything. Still holding Maya firmly, he thought about how he couldn’t under any circumstance let anything happen to her because of the things that had occurred in the arena. He realized how he had to keep fighting in order to keep his family away from the mess that he had created. Because it wasn’t over yet. He had lied in his interviews, and convinced the Capitol audience, but that didn’t mean that the people in higher positions were okay. Things with the Capitol hadn’t smoothed out yet. His act was not over. The madness was not over yet. This was not at all the end.

This was just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. If things seemed a bit confusing in the first part, then they were supposed to be that way. Iwas trying to depict Mon El's hazy line of thought.  
2\. The bead doesn't work... I wonder why!!!  
3\. President Snow is KNOWN for this!!  
4\. Kara's instincts have become a little more fighter-like. For better, or for worse.  
5\. As sad as it is, both of them are wonderful actors now...  
You'd think that as someone who has been writing extensively for quite some time now, I would have quite a lot to say now. But honestly, I am at a complete loss for words!  
Before anything else, a sincere THANK YOU to all my readers. Each and every one of you has been such an awesome part of my entire fanfic writing experience! Your comments, views, hits and kudos are so very dear to me and have inspired me and motivated me beyond compare to write and finally complete this part of the story...  
Yup, this PART of the story.  
Quoting the last sentence of the story, 'This is just the beginning!' There's a lot more to come and a lot more for our space puppies to do. Their journey has merely begun.  
That being said, I will begin with the next part sometime next month. Invincible is very dear to me and I'm nowhere near done with writing for it. I am not ready to bid farewell right now, not with how I left things...!  
So that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did and even though I won't be updating for a while now, I still look forwards to your comments in the mean time! So re-read, share with fellow Karamel enthusiasts and don't forget to leave tonnes of comments and kudos!  
Thank You for Reading!  
Until Next Time!


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